Everything I do
by Tiger Lily Roar
Summary: (AU) ON HIATUS - As any parent will tell you, there is nothing they would not do for their child. Running from the sinister world that is Wizarding England, Lily Potter nee Evans has only one person she can trust to protect her son: His father. A very different Harry grows up with his genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist father.
1. As the Seventh Month Dies

**Author's Notes: **I have been bitten by the Cross-Over bug. I've had this idea since I began plotting for _Blood of the Father_ and it won't leave me alone anymore. Because this will be taking place mostly in the Marvel Movie Universe I needed to adjust the Harry Potter timelines a little bit. Okay, a lot. Like 14 years. Harry isn't born in 1980 but 1994. This will enable him to merge with the Movie timelines without too much tweaking. For the first few chapters, the story will take place in the Iron Man I &amp; II movies. I will not be expanding into Thor or Captain America, however it will progress into the Avengers movie. I've seen Iron Man III but doubt I will be following the movies beyond Avengers.

**Warning:** This will not be a happy Wizarding tale. As a matter of fact, the Wizard World of Britain is a very dark and disturbing place. There will be bashing and a lot of it. James Potter was not a nice person and never will be. Dumbledore is a manipulative bastard that loves power way too much to be healthy. Tom Riddle, AKA Voldemort, is kind of the Good Guy - albeit still a homicidal maniac. I don't plan on dealing too much with the Wizarding world, but they may make an appearance or two and wanted you forewarned that they will be severely OOC than to what is in Canon.

**Second Warning:** There will be violence. There will be swearing. In the later chapters there will be sex - maybe even of the same sex kind. Also, the biggest warning for this story: THERE WILL BE DEATH. Yup, there will be character death(s). So, keep that in mind.

**Disclaimer:** Story title &amp; excerpt at beginning of first chapter taken from the song of the same name. Harry Potter, Iron Man, Avengers, or anything else related to those fandoms is not mine. I make no profit writing this story; it is purely penned for my own enjoyment and maybe a few of you will like it too. I will _not_ be placing this disclaimer on every chapter.

That being said; please enjoy the story.

* * *

...

_**there's no love, like your love**_

_**there's nowhere, unless you're there**_

_**I would fight for you**_

_**I'd lie for you**_

_**walk the wire for you**_

_**I'd die for you**_

_**Everything I do, I do it for you**_

_**(Bryan Adams, Michael Kamen, Robert John "Mutt" Lange)**_

_**...**_

**Chapter One: As the Seventh Month Dies**

**June 30, 1994**

**Surrey, England**

Petunia Dursley was pacing quietly behind her husband's chair in the living room, swaying gently with every step as she urged the bundle in her arms to sleep. The storm raging outside had waked the week old babe and she had already learned that the drone of the television seemed to calm her Ickle Dudleykins. Almost as soon as she had walked into the room he had quieted, much to Vernon's relief.

The man was content watching his Thursday evening programs and, as much as he loved his little tyke, he didn't want his down time interrupted. This was why, after a bright flash of lightning that was echoed by a crack of thunder, he was annoyed when there was a knock at their front door. He glanced back at his wife who was scowling just as much as he was.

"Take Diddy," Petunia said and transferred the now dozing infant into her husband's thick arms. "I'll be just a moment."

"Keep the chain on, Pet," Vernon Dursley instructed as he cradled his tiny son against his chest. "You never know what kind of degenerate is out in this type of weather."

The woman nodded as she made her way out of the living room and into the entry, cracking the front door open without removing the security chain already in place. There was no stopping the gasp that passed her lips at the rain soaked figure standing on her porch. Bright auburn hair was plastered to the young woman's head, her bare arms wrapped around her torso in an effort to keep warm, and despite the rain Petunia held no doubt that much of the water trailing down the woman's face were tears from bright jade-coloured eyes.

What surprised her most was the bulging belly of her very pregnant baby sister.

Even after not speaking to the younger woman since their parent's funeral the previous year, seeing her once beloved Lily in such a state was more than enough to soften Petunia's heart and she was quickly closing the door to remove the chain and pulling the door open fully. "Good heavens, Lily, what in God's name-"

"I need your help, Tuney." The petite woman, not much more than a girl really, was shivering fiercely as she was ushered into the home.

Clothing soaked through, her lips tinged with blue, and a tiny purse over her shoulder, twenty-years-old Lily Potter nee Evans was a sorry sight. Without any real conscious thought, Petunia nodded and ushered her sister up the stairs and into the bathroom. "Get out of those wet things," she instructed, surprising herself as she easily slid back into the role of big sister, and started the shower running. "Warm up in the shower while I gather some towels and a few things for you to wear. I'll leave them here and meet you downstairs when you're ready. We'll talk over some tea."

Fifteen minutes later, with Dudley settled in his nearby bassinet, she was waiting in the now silent sitting room waiting with her husband. Vernon was apprehensive having a Witch in the house, but Petunia had explained her sister's condition. He was not a cruel man and could not, in good conscious, chase a pregnant woman out into such weather. No matter who, or what, she was.

Dressed in some of Petunia's maternity clothing, the pregnant younger woman was sitting across from the couple and pouring a clear liquid from a small vial into her tea. Seeing their curious looks she smiled softly and touched her rounded belly. "For the baby," She told them in a whisper.

"Lily, what's going on?" Petunia asked while Lily sipped at the warm beverage.

The red head looked at her sister and husband with and sighed sadly. "You were right, Tuney, about everything." She took another drink and held the cup between her hands. "There's so much to tell you and I don't have much time, so I ask that you don't interrupt for now. Can you do that, Tuney?"

Petunia nodded and instinctively knew that what Lily had to tell her was not going to be pleasant. She reached out for Vernon's hand and held it tightly in her own.

"The world of magic is not what I thought it was," Lily began after a moment collecting her thoughts. "While wonderful and amazing, there is a dark secret that is... horrifying and it disgusts me that I am now a part of such atrocities."

"Lily, what-"

"Tuney, please," Lily pleaded, looking up and meeting her sisters gaze with tear filled eyes. "There are things you need to know - to understand - before I..." Her hands were trembling as she took another swallow of her tea. "Centuries of trying to keep their bloodlines pure have left the so called Purebloods unable to procreate. None of the families are able to conceive their own children. Decades ago began the practice of luring witches and wizards born to muggles into their world. Before the turn of the century you would never have found a student at Hogwarts that was not of a Pureblood line.

"These muggle-born witches and wizards were brought into their world to bring their new blood and power back to a world that was stagnant and dying. After their fifth year, those with the qualities they were looking for were bespelled." Lily took a shuddering breath, the tears flowing unchecked down her cheeks. "I despised James Potter one day and the next I found myself infatuated with him. Dosed with love potions and compulsion spells for months, my mind was twisted to believe that I was madly in love with the heir to the Potter family."

Petunia's grip on her husband's hand was bordering on painful, but Vernon didn't comment. He wore the same horrified and furious expression as his wife. They glanced at each other and while neither said a word it didn't need to be said that they would not be letting Lily go back to that world.

"You knew me, Tuney; knew I wanted a career and to live my life before I settled down with a husband and family. But the magic they used changed me and had me marrying the Potter scion straight after I finished at Hogwarts. It was because of them that I distanced myself from you and our parents. It's because of them that I - that I said and did what I did at their funerals. I could hear myself and in my head I was screaming; begging for you to not leave me with them!"

Lily was practically sobbing in her seat, hunched over herself and Petunia flung herself from the sofa next to her husband and knelt on the floor at Lily's feet. She moved the now empty teacup aside and clasped her baby sisters hands tightly, tears of her own falling down her cheeks.

"James is infertile," Lily choked out, placing a hand on her belly. "This is not his child! With the help of his friends, James searched London for a man - any man - who could pass for a Potter in appearance. When they found him I was sent to seduce him. I slept with him several times until I conceived his child then left him even though he professed to have loved me. He loved me, Tuney! Freely and honestly and I - I was suppose to kill him after I was certain I was pregnant, but I - I couldn't! I loved him too! Underneath the potions and compulsions, I loved him too!"

Petunia felt her heart breaking for her sister as she listened to the horrors her Lily Flower had endured.

"I have been fed potions with James' blood," Lily continued brokenly. "They will ensure that the baby born will be magical and possess the Potter family magic. When the baby is born James with perform a ritual that will bind the child to him and his family line. But their magic is corrupted. Once the ritual is complete, my child will be unable to have any of its own. The cycle will start again. And now... Their world is at War, Tuney and a prophecy has been made. A child will be born that will be have the power to end the war. He will be made a weapon and used by whatever side that can possess him."

"Your child..." Vernon growled, reminding both women that he was still there.

Lily nodded. "My son. The prophecy states the child will be born as the seventh month dies and my baby is due to be born near the end of July. He's powerful, so very powerful! I can feel the magic already growing inside him. He is what has given me the strength to fight the potions and spells that have controlled me all these years."

Gasping suddenly, her face contorted with pain, Lily doubled over in her chair. The woman only remained in the seat because Petunia held her there.

"Lily!" Petunia exclaimed when her sister lurched. "Lily, what is it?"

Panting for breath, Lily looked up at her sister. "I won't let them," the woman hissed through clenched teeth. She cried out and her arms wrapped around her swollen belly.

That was when the blood showed through the clothing she wore. Blood flowed from between her legs and Petunia screeched for her husband to call 9-9-9. She moved Lily from the chair to the floor, laying her out even as her own child began wailing at the commotion. "Oh god, lily!"

Lily was panting for breath and paling quickly. She grasped her sister's hand in a vice like grip and when she spoke her voice was strong and determined despite her obvious pain. "I won't let them have my baby!"

Terrifying understanding flooded Petunia and she gaped at her sister. "What did you do?!"

"In my tea... Severus gave me... saved my son... transfers my magic to my child and induces labour..." the redhead screamed and her head thrashed back into the floor as her body went rigid. The seizure passed a moment later and Lily stared at her sister hard. "Prophecy be damned, they will not have my son!"

Vernon was suddenly behind Petunia, a wailing Dudley cradled in his arm as he tried to comfort his son. "The ambulance is on its way."

"There's not much time," Lily drew in several ragged breaths before she could continue. "When they come... in my bag upstairs..." She gasped and cried out again, contorting on the floor as the magic was stripped from her core. "Name... his name... father's name... promise me..." She screamed.

Petunia was sobbing beside her sister, barely aware of Vernon bolting out of the room, with Dudley still in his arms, and up the stairs.

"Don't... don't look..." Lily told her desperately. "If you don't know... they can't... take it from you... Vernon..."

"Vernon, don't open the bag!" Petunia shrieked, knowing her husband would hear. In the distance she could hear the sirens. "Hold on, Lily! Please!"

Lily shook her head as another tremor washed over her body, but there was no scream this time. "They won't... come here... but better safe..." She gasped and her features relaxed into a soft smile, her hand falling to her stomach. "I feel him... my magic..."

Petunia cupped Lily's face in her free hand as Vernon came back down stairs. "I'm sorry, Lily!"

Her sister leaned into her touch and sighed, her eyes drifting closed. "Love you... always love you..."

In a daze, Petunia was aware of the medics arriving and drawing her away. Only as she stepped back did she realize she had been kneeling in the ever growing pool of blood surrounding her sister. Lily was ashen and as Petunia leaned into her Husband for support she heard them say she wasn't breathing.

It was an hour later when the doctor approached Petunia and Vernon as they waited in the waiting room of Milford Hospital. They had left Dudley with the Polkiss' across the street and, after changing her clothing, followed the ambulance. When they called Lily's name, the couple stood slowly. Seeing the doctor's grim look, Vernon put his arm around his wife's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," the physician said once they were led into a private office. "The blood loss proved too great."

Petunia gave a soft sob and buried her face into Vernon's chest. Despite his apprehension he felt for his wife's sister and what she was, after hearing her story he couldn't stop the pity and remorse he felt at her passing. "And the baby?"

"The medics kept her heart going with CPR until they reached the hospital. The baby was removed from the womb with no complications. Would you like to see him?"

"No," Petunia said quietly before Vernon could respond. She sat up and wiped the tears from her face, holding out Lily's purse for the doctor. "My sister was in an abusive relationship, Doctor," she lied flawlessly. "Her husband was controlling her for years and came after her the one time she managed to escape him. During that time she met and fell in love with the baby's father - her husband is infertile. Inside is the name she wished for the baby as well as the name of the baby's father. She asked me not to look at either. What I don't know I can't tell."

The doctor was frowning as he took the purse from her. "Mrs. Dursley, do I need to involve the police?"

She shook her head. "Her husband has... connections. Nothing would come of it. I would, however, ask you to find the baby's father discretely. And, perhaps, lose the record of my sister's passing."

This had both Vernon and the physician gaping at her. "Mrs. Dursley-"

"If they are looking for a living woman," Petunia interrupted with steel in her voice, "they will not come looking for her son. Despite not being his, her husband's infertility is secret and he would not want to face questions as to why he is not looking for his wife and child. He will come looking for the baby, Doctor."

There was a moment of silence before the physician spoke again. "If I do this, Mrs. Dursley, you will be unable to claim her body and she will be interred in a nameless grave. Do you truly want that for your sister?"

"My sister gave her life trying to protect her child," Petunia said resolutely. "She admitted to me when she collapsed that she had put something in her tea to induce labour. She no doubt knew it would cost her her life. Do you truly believe a woman who would go to such lengths would oppose what must be done to continue protecting her son?"

He must have seen something in her eyes as after a moment of silence he nodded. "I will have your sister listed as a Jane Bloggs and before her passing named the child and the boy's father."

Once the couple left his office, the doctor opened the tiny purse. It contained only two sealed envelopes, one address to _My Son _and the other _My Beloved_, and a single piece of paper. When he read what was written on the paper he inhaled sharply.

_To whom it may concern,_

_If the herbs I ingested work as I have been told they will, I will not have the chance to tell you what you must know for my son. I ask that you name him Harold Anthony, after my father and the father of my child. If you are capable of it, please find him and tell him we had a son. When you speak with him he will have known me as Elizabeth, I never gave him a family name. However, if he questions it, you can tell him he used to call me the one with the Jaded Eyes. He is an American and his name is Anthony Edward Stark._

**...**

**July 12, 1994**

**Surrey, England**

Harold Anthony Stark.

He had a son.

Anthony 'Tony' Stark, twenty-three-years-old world infamous billionaire playboy, stood in front of the large windows looking into the sterile maternity ward of Milford Hospital in Surrey, England. The rows of see through bassinets were intimidating, but none more so than the occupied one being wheeled toward the window by a smiling nurse. The small bundle lying within was squirming, tiny arms and legs flailing about with absolutely no coordination. The woman was cooing as she swaddled the babe in a blue and white blanket before cradling the child and turning so Tony could see its face.

_His_ face.

His _son's_ face.

Good God, he had Elizabeth's eyes!

Bright green eyes, wide in wonder as it took in everything the world as he knew it had to offer, settled on Tony's stunned visage and never wavered. A large body sidled up beside the new father with a chuckle.

"Your father wore the same expression the first time he saw you." Obadiah Stane, his father's long time friend and business partner, stood beside Tony with an amused grin.

"He's really mine?" Tony asked breathlessly, but the older man heard him and nodded.

"Paternity tests confirmed it, DNA comparisons would just be a formality." Obadiah took a step forward, wiggling his index finger at the babe that had now turned its eyes toward the man. "His eyes are incredible! Baby's are usually born with blue eyes."

"They're Elizabeth's eyes." Tony hesitantly followed the man closer to the glass, a soft smile creeping unbidden onto his face as he thought of the woman. "They were what first drew me to here; such a vibrant green and how they shined, Obi! She is - was beautiful. Beautiful, smart - god! She had a temper on her but her smile..."

The older man glanced at Tony in surprise. "You really loved her, didn't you?"

"She was more than the others, Obi. You would have liked her." The smile faded and he turned to his advisor. "The doctors here, they know nothing more about her?"

Obadiah shook his head. "Only what was written in the note. Tony, Elizabeth wasn't even her real name."

"Who she was doesn't matter. All that does is that she is - was the mother of my son." With a sigh, Tony turned back to the baby in the window. He held his hand up, touching the glass as if caressing his son's face. "I want her body with us when we take him home."

"You're going to keep him?" Obadiah asked, unable to hide the astonishment in his voice.

"He's my son, Obi!" Tony said incredulously. "I may do many reprehensible things, but one thing I will never do is abandon a child that is mine. Yes, Obi, I will be keeping my son. And I want to take his mother's body back to the States with us where she can have a proper burial and her son can visit her grave."

"You don't even know her name, Tony!"

"Then I'll give her mine!" He snapped. "Had I known she was pregnant I would have never let her leave! I would have married her and made her mine and God help me, Obadiah, I will do it even if she's gone!"

"All right," the man conceded, raising his hands in surrender. "All right, Tony. I'll make it happen. It may take a few weeks, but I'll contact the Lawyers back home and we'll get things started."

"And have them alter his birth certificate." Tony told the man. "I don't want his mother listed as a Jane Doe - or whatever name they give them here. Her name was Elizabeth Jade Stark."

"I'm not your assistant, Tony." Obadiah afforded the younger man a small smile before walking off to find the doctor he had spoken to earlier.

"I'm going to need one of those," the genius started mumbling to himself as he watched the nurse settle into a rocking chair to feed his son a bottle. "Make sure I don't lose myself in the labs anymore. And a Nanny. And I'll need to call the contractor and have him change the blueprints to the house in Malibu; we'll need a nursery right next door to mine. And daycare at the Office for when he's older. And a bodyguard. Bodyguards. Lots of bodyguards..."

A smile found its way to his lips when the nurse, who was obviously talking to the baby, and pointed at Tony. Her lips formed words but he could only understand one.

_Daddy_.

He had a son.

Harold Anthony Stark.

Harry.

...

**July 31, 1994**

**Hogwarts, Scotland**

Sybill Trelawney gave a happy sigh as she looked around her new accommodations. Not large or luxurious by any means, she was still content with how things had turned out. She must have really impressed Headmaster Dumbledore during her interview a couple months ago if he had offered her the Divination teacher position she had applied for after a single meeting.

And now, here she was! In her very own tower in Hogwarts! With her very own house elf to cater to her wants and a welcoming bottle of Sherry, gifted to her by Albus Dumbledore himself. Such a generous man!

As she picked up the bottle that had been waiting for her arrival, she was unaware of the spell the washed over her the instant she touched the liquor. She had intended on setting it aside, a keepsake to show her friends and future children (Why yes, it really was a gift from THE Albus Dumbledore!) but the spell had her unsealing the bottle and drinking from it. Once ingested, the potion laced liquor would see the poor woman a slave to the bottles the house elf Dumbledore had assigned would provide.

Inebriated, she would be near unconscious when the clock began to strike midnight. She would be unaware of her body going rigid or speaking in a voice not her own.

_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord has been lost ... born of she who defied the Fates, lost as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will know him not, but he will have power untold... hidden unseen in the Land of Gold, reclaim as a child lest Merlin's land will wither and die... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord has been lost as the seventh month dies..._

She would not know that, as the final chime resounded through Hogwarts, a private jet was departing Heathrow Airport and carrying away the British Wizarding World's last hope.


	2. As Time Goes By, Part One

**Author's Notes: ** As noted in the first chapter, I've had to tweak the HP Timeline a wee bit to get it to fit in the Marvel Movie Verse. During the process of writing this I find I need to adjust the MMV Timeline a little as well. I'll try to explain my reasoning here:

According to Marvel, The Avengers movie takes place about 6 months before Iron Man III. Given that's it is Christmas 2012 during IM3, that has The Avengers happening around June of 2012. Iron Man II takes place about eighteen months to two years prior to The Avengers which means 2010. The Circuit de Monaco (F1 Race featured in IM2) annually happens in May. At the beginning of the film, there is a 6 month time jump from the press conference (from the end of IM1) that Vanko was watching and the opening night of the Stark Expo. This puts the Press Conference (and the end of IM1) around November of 2009. Now this is where thing go a little wonky. During the Mad Money clip, you can see the date of broadcast as May 8, 2008. That doesn't fit because there is only a period of 3, maybe 4, weeks from his return to Malibu and the press conference. SO that would put his release from captivity around early to mid-October. Tony also stated that he was in captivity for 3 months, but again that doesn't quite work. If it were true, the convoy in Afghanistan would have been ambushed in July of that year, except when he left for Afghanistan Pepper was asking him about the MIT commencement services in June. Also, it's her birthday which is typically around the end of April, at least what mention of an actual day for it I could find. So, to make thing sorta fit, the only real change I made is that Tony was in the cave for 5 months instead of 3. And the IM1 stuff will take place in 2009 not 2008.

Or you could just pretend any inconsistencies don't matter. Either way.

Okay, no more A/N's!

* * *

**Chapter Two: As Time Goes By, Part One**

**June 30, 1995**

**Malibu, California**

_My Beloved._

He had read those two words thousands of times and had never been able to open the envelope that was so marked. Ever since bringing Harry back to California he had wanted to know more about the woman who gave his son life, but Tony was afraid of what he might learn.

Obadiah had talked to the doctor that had been there the night Elizabeth had died. There had been a sister, a woman who knew exactly who Elizabeth had been, but because of fear from an abusive husband - a man Elizabeth had escaped once before- the sister remained unnamed. The unknown sister and the doctor had colluded to hide Elizabeth's true identity, claiming that the sister believed the man would be looking for the child: Tony's son.

When Tony had learned that, and exactly what lengths Elizabeth had gone to to keep her son away from the man, he had wanted to get out of England as fast as possible but they had had to wait nearly three weeks before the lawyers had been able to get the necessary papers allowing Tony to travel with not only an infant British Citizen but a dead body as well. Even then it had been months sooner than what normally would have been expected.

Now, sitting in a comfortable gliding chair in his son's Nursery, and watching the newly one-year old sleeping contentedly with his thumb in his mouth, Tony fingered the envelope held in his hands. He promised himself he would open it today, one year after Elizabeth had given her life to protect their son.

He wanted to ignore the tremor in his hands as he slid the thick parchment - he'd have to check that out later - out of the envelope and unfolded the letter.

_Anthony,_

_I can only imagine what you must think of me. By now you know of our son and I cannot begin to express my regret at keeping his existence from you. There is so much I have to tell you but so little that I am actually able to. _

_First, my name is not Elizabeth. Who I was is not important and by not telling you I will keep you and our son that little bit safer. But I will tell you this: I loved you, Tony. With all my heart and soul, I loved you. Had things been different I would have been happy to live the rest of my days in your arms. _

Tony was forced to stop reading as his vision blurred and before the tears slips from his eyes he wiped them away with the palm of his hand. He took a steadying breath and returned to the letter in hand.

_You need to know that I was born different. I was born with a gift which, like so many others before and after me, drew the attention of a hidden society. With pretty promises they drew me in and then kept me there through guile and deceit. I was trapped into a marriage I did not want and to a husband who could literally control my every thought. The man, like many of his people, was unable to seed a child of his own and engineered the initial meeting between you and me. What followed was, I regret to say, a plan for me to conceive a child that he would claim as his own to further his family line. _

_He had not considered the possibility that, even under his control, I would grow to love you. Those weeks we had together were the happiest of my life, Anthony, and with my dying breath I will cherish what we shared. It was the love I had for you that enabled me to disregard the compulsion that had ensnared my mind that would have had me killing you once I knew I was with child. _

What sort of people had Elizabeth been involved with? Tony wondered as he found himself undoubting the words she had written. Most would have taken it as a sign of instability and insanity, and as a man of science he should have been one of them. Yet, as an inventor he knew that there were countless things yet undiscovered out there. Why not a subspecies of humans with special gifts that would set them apart and above the rest of the population. He would not entirely believe, as he liked to have had proof, but he would not disbelieve either.

_Our son will be born with such gifts, Anthony. He will be strong, stronger than any other child born to their world. He will be sought for and hunted and turned into a weapon in their wars, only to be discarded and forgotten until the next time he is to be used. I tell you this so you are prepared for what is to come, should you have taken him into your home and heart - which I do not doubt you have. As he grows he will begin to show signs of his gift; summoning toys or books to him or making things happen during moments of high emotion._

Well, there was his proof. It explained how the bottle he had been preparing for Harry earlier that week had ended up in the playpen with him in the other room while Tony had been in the kitchen still. No one else had been home at the time. Maybe that also explains why the television keeps shorting out whenever Harry was watching Barney. That purple menace was almost as bad as those damn PJ-clad giant bananas! Freaky!

_These gifts are wonderful and a true blessing, and it is my hope that you will find someone able to help him hone and master them. There are others like us across the globe - people untouched by the corruption and poisonous taint of those here in Europe - and they should approach you as he nears the age of eleven. That is when our gifts begin to settle and we can begin training with them. However, these gifts will also enable the world I ran from the ability to find him. _

_My husband, and the man he followed, used their knowledge to ensure that our son would possess traits and gifts known to my husband's family. It was done so as to pass him off as his son. They also believe that our son is destined to save their society from destruction. I could not have that and as the baby inside my womb grew so did his power. I was able to once more break free of their control. _

_I have gone to a former friend, a man by the name of Severus Snape. He is someone I had once thought to love, and he has agreed to aid me in running and hiding my son from the others. He, like me, is also gifted and close to the man my husband follows. He will be able to influence them as they will, without question, search for my child. He has given me special herbs that will enable my gift to transfer to my unborn son. Such things are not done without cost and I willingly pay what it asks so our son is safe and away from their world. Severus alone knows who you are and has sworn to help you should you ever contact him. I ask that you do not unless the need is dire. _

_Time grows short and I am sorry that I am unable to answer all the questions I know must be going through your mind. In this society our children come of age when their gifts mature, typically seventeen years of age. They will be unable to manipulate or use him then. _

_Hide him, protect him, but most of all love him. _

_Please, do not think too harshly of me my beloved._

There was no signature.

Tony read and reread the letter throughout the night, never straying from his son's bedside.

**March 17, 1997**

**Malibu, California**

"I don't know you."

Tony took a step back from the unknown man standing next to the town car. He picked up Harry without a second though, settling the toddler on his hip and twisting his body so he was between his child and the stranger.

"My name is Harold, Sir." The dark haired man introduced himself, not moving an inch from where he stood. "I have been hired by Mr. Stane as Eric Masterson's replacement as your driver."

"My name Hawold!" Harry squealed delightedly, flinging his hands into the air.

"Decibels, Hare-bear!" Sticking a finger in his ear, wiggling it to ease the ringing now resounding through the canal, he smiled at his son. "Especially when you're right next to my head. Got it?"

"Sowwy," Harry buried his head in his father's shoulder with an embarrassed grin.

Reaching into his pocket, Tony pulled out his cell and flipped it open. He held it up, clicked a picture of the man, before sending it and pressing the number one speed dial. "You don't mind me checking with the old man, do you?"

"I expected nothing else, Sir." The other Harold's tone was clipped and his face an emotionless mask.

_"Good Morning, Tony!"_ The voice answered jovially. _"I'm going to assume that the reason you called has to do with the picture you just sent me?"_

"You got me a new driver." Tony stated, never taking his eyes off the man in question.

_"I did, and yes that's him. He's trained, Tony. Boxing, martial arts, self-defense, he can double as a bodyguard when needed. He's also a licensed pilot should you need him. I've had him checked out, which wasn't hard given he's worked for Stark Industries in the Driver Pool for almost two years. He'll be a good fit, Tony. Give him a week. If you're not happy, we'll find someone else."_

"I'm always happy!" Tony ended the call and pocketed the phone before relaxing a little.

"Me happy too!" Harry squealed again, causing Tony to cringe as his ear was once again ringing.

"Yes Harry, but remember what I told you about decibels" Tony shifted the heavy boy on his hip and approached the car. As he neared, Harold opened the back door for the father and son. Tony eyed him but nodded. "One week. We'll see what happens after that."

"Yes sir," Harold agreed.

Harry looked at the stoic man critically before nodding as if he had just figured something out. "Daddy happy, me happy, you be happy. We go now Daddy?"

Tony snorted as he slid into the back seat, shifting Harry into his car seat. "You heard the man, Happy; let's get the show on the road."

"Right away, Sir." Closing the door, Harold Hogan smiled.

**August 28, 1999**

**Malibu, California**

Smoke billowed out of the shattered windows, rising up into the sky and darkening the otherwise perfect day. News helicopters circled the area, no doubt getting some spectacular shots of the flames and smoke and fire engines that had descended upon the Malibu mansion as it was nearly consumed by fire.

Tony took comfort in the fact that he was currently sitting propped up on a gurney in the back of an ambulance with a blanket wrapped around him and the shivering figure sitting on his lap. They hadn't been hurt - Tony didn't count the crack to the back of his head that would need stitches to close or the fact that he'd been unconscious until Rhodey had pulled him out of the lab - but were more scared than anything. But with Harry's young age the medics had wanted to make sure his lungs were clear and would be taking them both to Malibu Urgent Care where they would be checked out.

Outside the ambulance, Major James Rhodes was standing leaning against the vehicle covered in soot and staring at the house in a daze. He was still trying to process what he had seen and what had happened. He was slowly coming out of his funk when he heard a tiny voice, somewhat muffle by the oxygen mask situated on a little boy's face, mutter a heartbreaking:

"Sorry, Daddy."

James turned and watched Tony lean down and pressed a comforting kiss to the top of his son's head. "Not your fault, Hare-Bear." The five-year-old boy sniffled and nestled further into his father's lap, even as Tony began stroking the ash covered black locks. "I'm just glad you're okay. Now you know why I tell you not to go down into the Lab when I'm working."

"Because your machines don't like my Gifts yet," Harry said sadly, obviously quoting something that Tony had told the boy numerous times. "We were supposed to go to the beach with Uncle Rhodey today though."

Tony sighed and planted another kiss on Harry's head. "I know. I'm so sorry I got caught up in my work. I promise it won't happen again."

The little boy shifted on his father's lap, poking his head out of the thick emergency blanket and meeting James' worried gaze. "Thank you for saving us, Uncle Rhodey."

James smiled at his friend's son, trying desperately not to think of how he had found the little guy cowering against Tony's unmoving side as the fire raged around them. He didn't want to think about the flickering blue-white energy shield that had surrounded the father and son and keeping the flames back. Tony had told James about Harry's 'Gifts' but he hadn't really believed them until that moment. As soon as Harry had seen the man he called Uncle, bursting into the fire consumed workshop, the energy had fade out and he had slumped even more against his father.

Reaching out he cupped the little boy's face and wiped away a smudge of grime with his thumb. "Just finishing what you started, Magic Man."

**March 16, 2000**

**Los Angeles, California**

Mortification was the word of the day.

Never had she been as humiliated as she was right this moment.

She had thought she was saving the day. The error she had tracked to a contract that was due to be signed that afternoon would have cost the company millions. She had tried to talk with his secretary to get in to see him but he was already in with the government representatives from Haiti and in the process of going over the contract. Ignoring the woman's objections she had pushed her way into the office and ended up pepper spraying the bodyguard that had been standing beside the door as she entered.

Only to realize that Mr. Stark had noticed the inconsistency in his calculations and was correcting them in front of the Haitian dignitaries. To top it off, a little boy of no more than five or six had been sitting at nearby table and rushed to the bodyguard's side as he writhed on the floor and clutched at his eyes.

Now, twenty minutes later with a medic tending to Happy - the bodyguard - she was sitting on a lush sofa waiting to get fired. Really, the CEO had no other choice.

"Hi."

Pulling herself out of her thoughts she turned to the source of the small voice.

The boy, no doubt the rumoured heir to the Stark legacy, was sitting next to her and swinging his legs as his feet were still a ways from the floor. He was smiling at her and she couldn't help by smile back. "Hi."

"Why'd you spray that stuff at Happy?" the child asked innocently, impossibly-green eyes staring at her inquiringly.

"I made a mistake," she admitted. "I thought I was helping Mr. Stark but instead made myself look silly and hurt your friend."

"But why?" He asked again. "Why not wait until Daddy was done with his meeting? That's what I'm supposed to do when I want to talk to him, even if I'm in the same room as him."

He said it was such indignation that she chuckled softly. "Well, it's the polite thing to do; waiting until he's done."

"So why didn't you?" His third time asking the question was accompanied with a roll of his eyes.

"I didn't know your Daddy would see the same mistake I did," She told him honestly. "I knew the meeting was today and if your Daddy or the men he was meeting with signed their names on the piece of paper before it was corrected then it could have cost this company a lot of money."

"So you sprayed Happy and ignored Mrs. Maitland outside." He nodded as if it made perfect sense before leaning in to her and motioned for her to do the same. When she did he whispered, "That's okay. I ignore her all the time too, but don't tell my Daddy."

She smiled and whispered back, "Your secret is safe with me."

He eyed here warily before spitting into the palm of his right hand and holding it out to her. "Swear it?"

Without batting an eye she spit in her own palm and shook his hand solemnly. "So swears I."

"Cool," he smiled again before bouncing off the sofa. "I like her Daddy." He said to the man that had apparently been standing behind them the entire time. "She's not grossed out at all by spit swears; even you don't do that with me."

She leaped to her feet as she watched the little boy bound across the room to check on the bodyguard. She was wiping her hand on her skirt, stammering as she regarded the man who would now end her career. When he didn't say anything, she just stood there waiting for the inevitable.

Tony Stark reached into the pocket of his suit jacket and offered her a tiny bottle of hand sanitizer. "His Uncle Rhodey taught him the Spit Swear. Apparently it's more manly, and there for acceptable, than a pinky swear. "

"As any little boy that age will tell you," she commented as she used the sanitizer before offering it back to him.

He held up his hand, rejecting the bottle. "I don't like being handed things."

"Even if it's his stuff! He's weird like that!" The little boy's voice yelled across the room and she smiled, placing the bottle on the coffee table beside the sofa.

Mr. Stark gesture back to the furniture and she hesitantly sat a moment before he took a seat in the loveseat across from her. "So tell me about this mistake I made, Miss..."

"Potts," she answered confidently. Just maybe she could salvage her job. "Virginia Potts."

**May 23, 2002**

**Los Angeles, California**

"Okay, Harry, just about ready."

The almost-eight-year-old sat with his legs crossed on the table surface; poking his finger beneath the E.E.G cap he had strapped on his head. Without even looking, Tony reached up and pulled Harry's hand away from the cap. Harry huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "Last time I was around this much electronics I nearly burned down the house."

"Last time," Tony responded as he finished tweaking the program he was working on, "you weren't inside a lab shielded from electromagnetic pulses - the effects which your Gifts mimic whenever you use them. That's why the things at home got fried."

"It's not like I can control it," Harry grumbled.

Tony stopped tapping away at the keyboard and turned his rolling chair to face his son. Seeing Harry's dejected look he slid it the distance between them and gripped the boy's knees reassuringly. "Hey. We're going to figure this out, you know that right?" When Harry nodded he continued with a comforting smile. "Look at it this way, Hare-Bear: because of you, and your Gift, Stark Industries was the first in the industry to have the technology to shield from EM pulses. Do you know what that means?"

Harry shook his head, pulling his lower lips between his teeth and chewing on it anxiously.

"It means," the deep voice of Obadiah Stane echoed slightly in the secure lab, having entered without either Stark aware of it, "You've made this company billions!" Tony and Harry smiled in welcome as the older man approached them. The Executive Officer joined the pair in the center of the lab and placed a warm hand on the youngest Stark's shoulder. "Billions, Harry, because our weapons and computers and everything else we've built in the last eighteen months is protected in the event of an EM pulse, whether natural or manmade."

"And that's a good thing," Harry stated, though it came out more like a question.

"Most definitely a good thing." Tony squeezed the boy's knees before wheeling back to the computer. "It has allowed me to build this lab and these computers and everything else in the room so we can finally figure out what these Gifts of yours are exactly and where they come from. We do that, we can figure out how to protect you from others who have them."

"Like the ones Mom said were going to be looking for me?" Harry asked worriedly, though he did relax a little as he realized there wouldn't be any more life-threatening fires.

"Just like them." Obadiah lifted himself onto the table beside the boy, smiling as he met those amazing green eyes. "You know we won't let them find you, right?"

Harry smiled back and nodded. "I know, Uncle Obi."

"Good." He bumped his shoulder against Harry's, causing the little boy to lurch to the side with a giggle. With an answering wink, Obadiah slid from the table and walked over to Tony's side, leaning over the genius and scanning the computer screens. "You're going to try tracking the electrical signals through his brain as things happen?"

"Now that I'm able to." Tony acknowledged. "If I can map the parts of the brain that are stimulated whenever his gifts are active I should be able to find ways to negate the effects if not the impulses themselves."

"Meaning they won't be able to use their Gifts against our boy." Obadiah clapped Tony on the shoulder in approval. "Let's get to work."

**October 31, 2003**

**Fullerton, California**

"Dad! Daddy!"

Tony pushed his way through the crowd of police officers and bolted for the desk where his son sat practically drowning in a police blazer. Nine-year-old Harry Stark leaped from the chair and met him halfway across the bullpen, jumping into his father's arms and latching onto him as he was readily scooped into the air.

"Harry! Thank God!"

After nine years, Tony's worst nightmare had happened.

He had been in a meeting with Obadiah when Pepper had burst into his office at Stark Industries. Several officers from Malibu PD had been with her and they gave him the news.

Our Lady of Malibu School, a very exclusive private school in which he had enrolled his son, had been at morning recess and Harry had been playing with his friends. Three men in masks ran onto the playground and grabbed Harry. They had guns, keeping the staff at bay, and a fourth accomplice waiting in a dark coloured sedan. It took them less than two minutes to get away with the son of Tony Stark.

In shock, Tony had been escorted home by the police as they waited for contact from the kidnappers. He prayed that it was an ordinary kidnapping for ransom. In the back of his mind he feared that it was _Them_ having finally tracked down the little boy that had gotten away from them all those years ago. As minutes turned into hours that nugget of fear turned into full out panic as they heard nothing from the men who had taken Harry.

The media had run away with the story as soon as the Amber Alert had gone out. The first public pictures of Tony Stark's son were blazing across every television station in the state and in less than two hours it was featuring on the National networks. Tony had gone before the cameras and pleaded with whoever had taken Harry to keep him unharmed and promised he would pay whatever price they asked for. He didn't care about the money; he only wanted his son home.

The sun had begun to set and still there was no call, no messenger; nothing to let him know if his son was alive or not. The FBI had joined them after six hours, fearing the boy had been taken across state lines or, worse case scenario, into international waters.

Never feeling more useless and powerless, Tony was grateful for the presence of his friends. Obadiah had followed him from Stark Industries and hadn't left his side. Happy had driven Pepper over to the house after the Personal Assistant had taken care of his business affairs. Rhodey had arrived less than an hour after he heard the news from Pepper. All of them waited just as anxiously as the distraught father.

It had been just after ten o'clock, more than twelve hours since Harry had been taken, when the lead Detective had received a call. Harry had been found in Fullerton.

The hour drive, even with Happy driving and the police escort, had been excruciating. But hearing that tiny voice, calling out to him as he entered the Fullerton Police Department, nearly wrecked him. The fear of the last twelve hours was overwhelming and the relief at holding his son in his arms again had him falling to his knees without a care as to who was witness.

It was only when Harry pulled back a little and wiped at Tony's went face that he realized that the broken sobs that had filled the room had been coming from him.

"You're crying," Harry whispered, his jade eyed bright with moisture. "You never cry!"

"I do today, Hare-Bear," Tony whispered back, clutching his son to him again.

With Harry nestled in his lap, Tony soon found himself sitting in the Chief's office with nearly a dozen other people, including a rather embarrassed looking beat cop. The same officer whose blazer Harry was still wearing.

"I was just ending my shift," the man in his early twenties explained bashfully, "when he suddenly leaped out of an alley and darted in front of the car. I thought I was going to hit him!"

"I'd been hiding for hours," Harry told everyone in a timid voice, rubbing at the red marks encircling his wrists. "They'd put me in the trunk of their car. I was able to chew through the cable tie they tied me up with and I remember the Stranger Danger videos we had to watch in school. I found the emergency latch to the trunk lid and when the car slowed down I popped it and jumped out and ran. I don't know if they followed me or not, I just kept running. I'm not sure how long or where to, but I finally had to stop and I hid. I waited for a while and when I didn't see anyone I tried to find a phone but every payphone I found was broken and I didn't want to ask anyone on the street in case they were a bad guy too. So, I went into an alley where I could see a kind of busy street and waited. It was hours before I saw the police car coming toward me."

Tony had held back a growl when he heard the bit about his son being tied up, but it was the lie he heard in his son's voice that had him wondering exactly how Harry had escaped. Glancing quickly to the side, he shared a look with Obadiah; he knew the other man had heard it as well. No doubt something had happened with Harry's Gifts.

"I didn't recognize him right away," the young officer admitted, drawing his attention back to the debriefing. The officer looked at Harry with an impressed grin. "I barely got my car into park before he's poking his head through my open window and telling me, 'My name is Harold Anthony Stark and I'd like to go home now.' That's when I recognized him from the Amber Alert."

Physically and emotionally exhausted from his ordeal, Harry buried himself into his father's chest. "Daddy, let's go home."

**January 04, 2004**

**Malibu, California**

"Boarding school?!"

Tony cringed at the bellow of his son's voice. He knew this wouldn't go over well, but he also knew this was for the best. "Hare-bear, listen to me. I don't want you to go-"

"Then why send me away?" Harry turned on his father and glared. Yeah, the boy was incensed. "I've been keeping up with my school work, hell I'm ahead by almost a full year!"

"Language!" Tony snapped with a frown. "You need to be around kids your own age, Harry. You can't keep coming with me to the office."

"Why not?" The boy demanded, his eyes flashing dangerously and Tony felt the hair on his arm rise as his son's Gift reacted to his anger. "The last time I was around kids my age I was fucking kidnapped!"

It happened before Tony could move. The bottles on the wall of the bar behind him exploded in a shower of glass and booze, sending Tony out of the bar stool he had been sitting on and to the floor. His arms were flung over his head and his heart was pounding against his chest. He had known this wouldn't be a pleasant conversation, he just hadn't expected this.

Getting to his feet, carefully brushing the shards of glass off his arms, he looked at his son. When the father spoke it was with a steady voice, even if it was hard as steel. "You will get control of yourself, Harold Anthony Stark, and you will not talk to me with that tone or with that kind of language!"

Harry's jaw clenched as he gritted his teeth before storming away from his father. He practically threw himself into the sofa facing the large wall of windows looking out onto the ocean. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Tony inhaled slowly and exhaled as he rubbed at his eyes. Sighing, he approached his boy and slid into a seat nearby, keeping a distance to give Harry his space.

"I know you're scared-"

"I'm not scared," Harry huffed, folding his arms over his chest, and continued to stare out the windows.

Tony took another calming breath before trying again. "Harry, you were kidnapped. You have every right to be scared. Hell, I'm scared!"

Jade eyes flicked toward him briefly before looking away again. "Language."

With a faint smirk, Tony moved closer and sat on the edge of the coffee table in front of his son, blocking the boy's view and forcing them to look at each other. "We're both... worried. We were lucky and I don't want to test that luck again. We can't count on your Gifts miraculous transporting you out of a moving car and miles away from your kidnappers again. We've can't even duplicated whatever it was you did.

"As much as I want to keep you with me every minute of every day, I can't do that. Now, the school I've found is just over an hour away and you will be able to come home every weekend. I've had their security procedures checked out and they're pretty good, Hare-bear. If you attend, they will be undergoing a complete upgrade of the computer systems and security protocols to my standards; and you know how anal I am about that sort of thing."

Harry chewed on his lower lips and straightened out of his angry slouch a little. "Really?"

"Yeah," Tony smiled softly. "I've also spoke to the School Head and she has agreed to several other concessions. While other students are typically not allowed cell phones outside their dorm rooms, you will be permitted to carry a dedicated Stark Phone - one that only connects with me, Obi, Pepper, Rhodey and Happy - with you at all times. You will be given a private room until the time you request otherwise. You will be leaving campus immediately following class every Friday and will return by the first bell Monday morning. She has also agreed to have Happy working as the new Boys' Dorm Parent during the week while you are there and he will drive you to and from the school. He will be with you every step of the way, Hare-bear."

"That doesn't sound too terrible," Harry admitted. "I'll see you every weekend, right?"

"And every holiday." Tony reached across the space between them and squeezed his knee. "I don't want you to go, Hare-bear, but Obadiah and I agree that you need more stability than hanging out in a boring office with a bunch of old farts."

"You're not that old, Dad." Harry snorted and rolled his eyes before sighing and looking serious again. "When am I supposed to start?"

"I'm taking you there tomorrow morning," Tony answered morosely. "We'll take a tour of the school together, see your dorm room, and then I'll come back. Happy headed out there this morning to get things started."

Harry frowned. "You weren't going to give me a choice, were you?"

With a reluctant shake of his head, Tony responded. "I am your father, Harry. You may not always like my decision but I will only ever do what I think is best for you. "

**June 30, 2005**

**Malibu, California**

"_Cr-r-oo-oo-oo-oo_!"

Harry Stark bolted up in his bed at the shrill cry that shattered the early morning quiet. He blinked wildly a couple times, trying to figure out if he had dreamed the sound or if - no, not a dream. Bright yellow eyes stared at him from the footboard of his bed. With pale brownish-grey plumage, the owl wasn't large, no more than ten inches in height, but it was an owl.

And in his room.

And apparently he brought a friend.

A much bigger friend.

At least sixteen inches in height, the second owl was thinner than the first with dark feathers on its back and pale grey feathers on its breast. Like its companion, however, its bright yellow eyes regarded the smaller bird of prey dismissively before zeroing on the Harry.

"Dad!"

Harry pushed himself back against his headboard as a third owl swooped in through his opened window. He typically didn't leave it open but it had been hot and the breeze off the Pacific had readily lulled him to sleep. Now, however, as the third avian lit beside the other two - this one undoubtedly a Great Horned Owl and measuring nearly two feet in height - he was feeling distinctly unnerved. Especially when he saw at least four other specks in the air aiming for his window.

"DAD!"

He bellow had the owls all screeching in a cacophony that had Harry covering his ears with his hands and cringing back as the Great Horned spread his wings in an impressive show, nearly knocking the other birds off the footboard. Oh, and two more joined the others as they resettled themselves.

It was all for naught as they all startled and shrieked again when the door to Harry's room burst open, revealing his father standing bare-chested in a loose pair of pajama pants brandishing a metal baseball bat. He took in the sight of his son practically cowering in his bed with - "Holy crap, are those owls?!"

A sixth and seventh bird descended onto the footboard sending Harry scrambling from his bed and bolting behind his father. Feeling safer with Tony's larger frame between him and the creatures, the pre-teen watched them curiously. As one the seven owls turned their heads until their vibrant eyes met Harry's. "What are they doing here?"

"I have no idea," Tony muttered in amazement. "JARVIS, any idea where they all came from?"

The AI answered automatically**. "Only two seem to be indigenous to America, Sir. Another is from the Amazon, two from Africa, one from Asia and another from Oceania."**

"Doesn't explain why they're in my room," Harry grumbled.

As if in response, the Great Horned Owl snapped its wings and took to the air. It swooped toward the startled Starks with its intimidating talons spread out before it. Tony pushed the bat out in front of him, attempting to keep the bird back as he started ushering Harry out of the room, only to have the avian clutch the metal in its claws. Tony froze when it opened its beak and screeched at the pair.

**"Perhaps, Sirs, the items secured to each bird's right tarsus will shed some light on the situation."**

The owl perched on the bat lifted its right leg, showing the Starks the roll of paper tied to its lower leg with a thong of leather. Tony gaped at it and could only blink when the six other birds held out their right leg as well. "Well I'll be damned..."

Fifteen minutes later, after easily removing their burdens and watching all seven owls depart the same way they had come, Tony and Harry sat at the breakfast bar in the kitchen with seven different letters spread out in front of them. All of them were addressed to Harry, right down to the location of his bedroom: _'Second west facing bedroom, third floor._' It was a little disturbing how precise the address was.

"_Australia's Arcane Academy: Perth Campus_," Harry read from one of the envelopes he had opened when Tony hadn't been looking, as he picked it up, "_wishes to extend its invitation to Harold Anthony Stark to study the fine arts of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As you are one of the few international students given this opportunity, a school representative will be arriving at your home on July 11 at promptly Nine O'clock AM, Pacific Standard Time. We shall address the terms of your enrollment with our establishment then as well as any questions you may have. Should you wish to decline, simply destroy the invitation and the representative will not arrive on the designated day. With Regards, Barwon Rungarungawa, Headmaster."_

"_Dear Mr. Stark_," Tony had another letter open, "_We are pleased to inform you that you have been offered a place with the Salem Witches Institute_ \- it's says pretty much the same thing, though the person coming will be arriving August first."

Harry tore in to the others. "They're all invitations. _The Democratic Republic of the Congo School of Magic; California Academy of Science and Sorcery_; Brazil, Morocco, Japan... they all claim to be schools of Magic. But you've always told me Magic isn't real."

"Magic is just science we don't understand yet," Tony muttered as he looked at the letters in front of them. "I think it's Them."

Harry went pale and backed away from the papers. "Them?!"

"Not THEM Them," Tony clarified before his son freaked, not that he wasn't freaking a little himself. "But others like you and your mother."

"People with Gifts like mine." Harry approached the letters again, fingering them carefully. "They call it magic. And they want to teach me."

Tony nodded, though his son wasn't looking at him. "What would you want, Harry? We've done pretty well the last couple years, helping you control your Gifts, but to know how you do what you do and expand on that would help everyone in the end. Don't you think?"

"I really like what we have set up with Ojai Valley School," Harry insisted, glancing at his father before looking at the letters. "Besides, I don't want to leave California."

"Then you don't leave." Relief flooded Tony. He had always been wary of this day, knowing that he might have to give up his son in order for Harry to learn to control his Gifts - his Magic. He stepped beside his son and pushed the papers all aside, all but one. Unlike the others, it was printed with a computer on normal paper and not hand written on thick parchment. He liked it already.

"_Dear Mr. Stark, we at the California Academy of Science and Sorcery would like to extend you and your father the opportunity to tour our facility, located in San Francisco, California. We are a fully accredited institution that incorporates non-magical education with the arcane studies of our students. We are a sub-school of Stanford University, both the non-magical and magical campuses, and many of our graduates go on to secondary education. If you would like to take advantage of this opportunity to ask any questions you may have, or discuss the process of application, please respond to the number or email listed below prior to July 31, 2005. I look forward to hearing from you, Dr. Gregory Pippenger, MEd.D, Dean of Admission._"

"That doesn't sound too bad," Harry admitted, taking the sheaf of paper from his father's hand and looking it over himself. "And San Francisco's only six hours away."

"And it sounds like they keep up with your regular education as well," Tony glanced at the remaining invitation. "None of the others say anything about it."

"They're also offering to answer our questions and letting us see the school before we commit to anything." Harry chewed on his lower lips. "You've learned a lot of stuff about my gifts already, but imagine what you can learn if you worked with my teachers or other students?"

"A wider study group would give me a more complete picture of how you do what you do," Tony admitted.

Smiling suddenly, he took the paper from his son and stacked it into a pile with the rest, albeit on the very top. "Enough of that right now. I know it's early and all, but it is, I suppose technically, someone's birthday and we are in need of celebration!"

Harry's eyes lit up and his face split into a wide grin. "IHOP?"

"IHOP!" Tony grabbed Harry's shoulders, spun him around and gave him a gentle shove out of the kitchen. "Go get dressed! You're eleven now, maybe I'll even let you drive!"

"Sweet!"

**July 01, 2005**

**Malibu, California**

As with every other year, his birthday had been an amazing day. How could it not with Tony Stark, the consummate party animal, as your party planner. It had been fantastic and Harry and his friends had a lot of fun. The now eleven year old was exhausted and yet he found himself unable to sleep despite the late -or very early, depending on how you looked at it - hour.

_My Son._

The envelope was thick, parchment his father had told him, and had aged to a pale yellow. It was sealed with an unmarked dollop of crimson wax, but it was the elaborate calligraphy writing that had Harry entranced.

It was his mother's writing.

Tony had been given a letter from her as well and had never kept from Harry what it had contained. He had never allowed his son to read it, but Harry understood it was private and meant for his father's eyes only. Just like the letter he now unfolded was meant just for him.

_There are so many things I wish to say, but none more than this: I love you!_

_My Harold, your coming into this world is as far from ideal as can be, but never doubt the love I have for you. I was not married to your father at the time we created you, but I loved him with all my heart. You are the culmination of a brilliant man, a foolish woman, and their love for one another. I regret many things in my life, my son, but you are not and never will be one of them. _

_You gave me strength and power when I needed it and because of you I will be free when I take my final breaths. Know that I chose this, Harold. I knew what would become of me the moment I began to fight the control my husband and his people had over my mind and body. I fought for you, son, and any mother would readily give her life to protect their child. I can do no less. _

_I do not know how old you will be when you read this, but no matter your age you must know that you are different from others. _

_You are Magic, Harold. _

_I was born with the ability to harness the magic of the world and use it in a myriad of different ways. One day, on or around your eleventh birthday, you will be approached by schools to train you in these abilities. Even now you are powerful, Harold. You rest in my body and I can feel your strength flowing through your veins. You will, naturally, be a wizard of great talent and power. But what I will do will see you in a class all your own. _

_In the moments before your birth I will transfer my own magic to you. You will possess not one, but two magical cores and as you grow they will grow together until they are all your own. Doing so will come at the price of my own life and I do so with the full knowledge of what will happen. I do this, not because I do not want to be with you - nothing could be further from the truth! - But because I want you protected from those who would use you for their own gain._

_The world I was a part of believes in the power of Divination and Prophecy. They believe that if it is spoken to be then it shall be. Shortly after your conception a Prophecy was made in the presence of Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of the school I attended as a child. He is vaunted as the greatest Wizard since Merlin, but he is nothing more than a man obsessed with his own hubris. He will do whatever he must, step over whoever he will, to remain in the seats of power he now claims. Including subjugating those who will be of greater power than him. _

_You are one such child, Harold, even before I transfer my magic to you. The prophecy made to Dumbledore claimed that you would have a power to defeat a Dark Lord that is fighting for change in that world. While a vile, despicable man, Lord Voldemort opposes Dumbledore and seeks to bring the suppose Lord of Light to task for the atrocities committed in the name of the Greater Good._

_I tell you this because, though he has no blood claim to you, the man I was compelled to marry, a man named James Potter, will see you as his. He took measures to ensure that you would possess the Potter family magics and the closer you come to your magical majority at the age of seventeen the easier it will be to find you. Dumbledore will use Potter and his supposed claim on you as his heir to hunt for you; to force you to face Lord Voldemort as a weapon to be discarded once your purpose has been served._

_I regret the burden this places on you, my dearest son, but I believe you deserve to know what may come. In the years to come, be wary my Harold but do not live in fear. Your father is a powerful man in his own right and will be able to protect you in ways the Wizards of Europe will never anticipate. _

_Know that I love you with all my heart and soul and I do what I do now in the hopes that I can alter Prophecy and fate and give you a future free of Dark and Lights Lords._

_You are my light and life, my Harold._


	3. As Time Goes By, Part Two

**Chapter Three: As Time Goes By, Part Two**

**July 16, 2005**

**San Francisco, California**

"Mr. Stark, welcome to C.A.S.S.!"

Gold framed BVLGARI sunglasses shaded his eyes from the morning sun as Tony slid through the door Happy held open for him. The billionaire straightened his jacket as he took a couple steps away from the town car, allowing Harry to exit behind him. Their driver, slash bodyguard, closed the door behind them and took his place just behind Tony's son.

They were parked just inside the high gates that enclosed the stone fence surrounding the California Academy of Science and Sorcery. Approaching them with a wide smile and extended hand was a grey-haired middle aged man. He was followed by a young woman, late twenties to early thirties, and a boy in his late teens.

Tony was frowning as he looked around the main drive of the campus, glancing back at the gate before lifting the sunglasses from his nose and placing them atop his head. He accepted the offered hand, shaking it as he commented, "The fenced in perimeter wasn't this large when we drove past."

The grey-haired man chuckled kindly. "Wizarding space, Mr. Stark. A strategic placing of rune stones, charms, and other spells allow us to hide nearly one square mile of land inside a city block on the shores of the South Basin. We have twenty-six buildings - several of them four and five stories, our own post office and bank, an Olympic size swimming facility, stables, and a multipurpose stadium that seats fifteen thousand - and yet all anyone outside these fences will ever see is a four story brick building no different than any other average high school in America. "

"Cool!" Harry breathed with eyes wide with wonderment as he looked around the elaborate flower gardens and well maintained lawns that surrounded the main entrance.

"You ain't seen nothing yet, kid," the teenager told them with an amused grin.

"I'm Dr. Gregory Pippenger, Dean of Admission" the older man introduced himself before gesturing to his female companion. "This is Madam Lenore Racine, President of our Magical Defense Department as well as Head of school security."

Madam Racine was a soft looking woman of average height and athletic build, yet an air of competence and power exuded her. Her deep brown hair was styled into an elegant pixie-cut and her slate-blue eyes were a stark contrast to her coffee coloured skin. She spoke with a Louisiana French accent as she offered her hand to Tony. "It's a pleasure, Mr. Stark. I hope that you'll find our School a fit for your son's education."

Wearing his standard flirtatious smirk, Tony turned her hand lightly kissed the back. "The pleasure is all mine, Madam." He released her hand with an internal sigh at the glint of diamond on her left ring-finger.

"And this," Dr. Pippenger continued, motioning to the young man accompanying them, "is Chris McCarthy, Student Body President Elect for this coming year."

The boy was grinning madly, light brown eyes gleaming, as he shook Tony's hand. He was nearing six-feet tall with wide shoulders and thick muscles. His hair was long and dark blonde and pulled into a casual ponytail at the nape of his neck. "It's an honour to meet you, Mr. Stark."

"You must be Harry," Dr Pippenger turned his eyes to the younger stark with a sincere smile. "I can't tell you how pleased we are that you agreed to this tour."

"You're welcome." Harry answered with a soft smile of his own.

"Mr. Stark," Madam Racine drew Tony's attention. "Our plan was to have Chris show Harry around the campus while you, Dr. Pippenger and I adjourned to the Administrative Building, just over there, to discussed the logistics of having Harry studying here with us and what all it would entail."

Tony turned back to look at his son and bodyguard. He had thought they'd stick together but realized the appeal of allowing the preteen to miss the meeting with the adults which would no doubt be rather boring. Seeing the barely disguised look of eager anticipation in his son's eyes was all he really needed. He turned back to the others. "Would it be all right if Happy accompanied them?"

"More the merrier," Chris moved over beside Harry and slung an arm around the smaller boy's shoulder. Without paying attention to the adults, the teenager led Harry away. "So, Harry, let me tell you about Quodpot..."

Tony watched them go with no small amount of trepidation but trusted Happy to keep an eye on Harry. Even in a 'magical' area, Happy was more than capable of protecting Tony's son from any threat. Putting his worry aside for the time being, Tony allowed himself to be guided into a two story, white marble building. Once inside a tastefully decorated office, he sat around a small coffee table - already prepared with a coffee and tea service set out - with the two administrators across from him.

"I have to admit," Dr. Pippenger stated as he prepared himself a cup of coffee, "We were all more than a little surprised to find your son's name on the M.U.A.'s registrar for incoming students; and before he reached a year in age even!"

Tony didn't take any coffee, though he did break the seal on a bottle of water and drank a small sip before responding. "The M.U.A.?"

"Magic Users of America," Madam Racine clarified as she leaned back in her seat without a beverage. "It's a small political party in Congress that represents the interests of Witches, Wizards and other magical beings of the United States. Most people believe it to be an independent representative."

The inventor was nodding but wore a thoughtful frown. "And you're telling me they have been aware of my son's Gift's for the last decade?"

"They knew of his potential," Dr. Pippenger clarified. "Every magical child in the United States, upon their first bout of accidental magic, is listed in a Book of Souls in Washington, DC. Because you are who you are, Mr. Stark, the appearance of Harry's name, and before his first birthday, was astounding."

Swallowing a little more water, Tony allowed himself a prideful smirk. "We Starks have always been rather remarkable. I could wax poetically about the brilliance that is the fruit of my loins; however I am here for a reason. Woo me, Madam and Doctor. Why should I allow my son to matriculate here instead of elsewhere? Yours was not the only 'Magic School' invitation he received, though you were one of two from the US. "

The two educators shared a look as the billionaire relaxed back into his seat as, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table, as if it were his own office. Dr. Pippenger turned back to the man. "Just how many invitations are you talking about?"

Tony looked thoughtful for a moment, his fingers ticking as he silently counted. "Seven, I believe. We automatically disregarded the ones from Australia, the Congo, Morocco, and Japan - he doesn't want to go to school outside the country - but I tried to get him to reconsider the one in Brazil; I took him there for Carnival this past spring but I think we'll try it again when he's a little older and can appreciate the beauty of Brazil a little more." And the skimpy costumes said beauties tended to wear.

"May I assume, Mr. Stark, that you and Harry have at some point visited each of these countries?" Dr. Pippenger inquired.

"You would assume correctly." Tony confirmed.

Seeing his curiosity at the question, Madam Racine explained. "For a child's potential to register with the schools of other countries he would have had to have an occasion of accidental magic within their borders. It's an anomaly in the various countries Book of Souls as they can only register the child's name, not the country of origin. Only when the Owls are sent out with the invitations, with the magically created envelopes, would they have noticed that Harry was not, in fact, a citizen of their country. It would then be to the individual school's discretion if the invitation was issued or not."

"That so many schools outside the US chose to send their invitations is very telling." Mr. Pippenger told them with an amused smile. "Most magical societies are very insular, wanting to avoid the influence of foreign cultures. That five other countries sent out their invitations is proof that whatever caused Harry's name to appear in their Book of Souls impressed them enough to attempt to court you away from America."

Tony took another slow drink from his water bottle as he chewed over the information he was just given. "So there are only two schools in the US for 'Magic'?"

"No," Pr. Pippenger shook his head. "There are seven, actually, not including the magical post-secondary education campus - of which there are thirteen. The magical population of the country is nearing three million Witches and Wizards and it is rising every day as more and more people immigrate to the US. We are the country with the highest percentage of Baseline-Born, or First Generation, wizards such as your son. Because our numbers are so high and our population spread out over vast areas, the country is divided into districts and depending on where you live you will receive an invitation to the school closest to your home. However, because C.A.S.S. is a fairly new school - and the only one to integrate both types of education - we have an agreement with the other schools. Students who have an invitation to C.A.S.S. based on their district, the other schools have a lottery on which one sends out an invitation to which student. Subsequently, C.A.S.S. is the only school in the country that issues invitations to every potential Baseline-Born student in the country, so they have the option of continuing their non-magical education without giving up their magic."

It all sounded rather convoluted, but Tony just let it go as it seemed to work for them. "And just how many students attend this Academy of Science and Sorcery in a given academic year?"

Madam Racine reached out to the desk behind them and summoned a folder to her awaiting hand.

Tony's eyes widened at the display of 'magic' and dropped his feet back onto the floor, sitting up in fascination. "Fantastic! Are all 'Witches' and 'Wizards' capable of telekinesis?"

"That was not telekinesis," Madam Racine explained as she pushed aside the tea and coffee tray to set the folder between them. "That was a wand-less, silent summoning spell. It takes a Witch or Wizard years of study to accomplish."

"Really?" Tony arched a sculpted eyebrow with an air of amusement. "Harry's been doing that since he was three years old." He really did try not to laugh at their incredulous expression but he could completely stop the snort that escaped him. He coughed to cover the faux pas and took another drink from his bottle.

"You're saying that your son - that Harry has been consciously summoning objects to him since he was a toddler?" Dr. Pippenger's jaw dropped when Tony nodded. "Astounding!"

"Stark. Is that for me?" The father reached out for the folder and drew it to him before they could offer it to him. He flicked it open and started leafing through the pamphlets and information about the Academy.

"Uh, yes," Madam Racine gathered herself and started explaining what he was looking at. "As you can see, C.A.S.S. was founded in 1976. We host an average of twelve hundred students in any given year and we have a staff numbering over three hundred - teachers, groundskeepers, Dorm Parents, and other day to day operational staff. We have combined the standard and arcane curriculums as much as possible; Chemistry and Potions, Math and Arithmancy, Astronomy, History. The two core arcane subjects - Charms, Transfigurations - as well as Magical Defense are taught on their own."

"What about the other sciences," Tony asked absently as he scanned the contents of the folder.

"We are fully accredited by the US Department of Education," Dr. Pippenger contributed, "and as such, we are required to follow the national guidelines. All courses you would find in a Baseline school you will find here. If you were looking for a traditional arcane education, schools such as the Salem Witches Institute - which, despite its name, does accept Wizards - or the Seattle School of Sorcery are to the I.C.W. Standard and the numbers one and two ranked schools in the country. Though, they are not recognized by the U.S.D.E."

The father looked up at the pair. "Baseline; you've used that term a couple times now? And the I.C.W.?"

"Baseline is the politically correct term for those who are unable to harness and utilize magic." Dr. Pippenger explained. "You would be considered a Baseline, Mr. Stark. As for the I.C.W.; that is the International Confederation of Wizards. Many countries have hidden societies of Witches and Wizards that have their own governing body. There are less than a handful of countries - Canada, Australia, Brazil and the United States - where the magical population has been integrated into the general populace. At least, it's what's supposed to have happened. There are still factions of Traditionalists that insist on complete and total segregation from the Baseline society."

"The I.C.W.," Madam Racine said, "is the magical equivalent of the United Nations. It works to keep the peace between the various Magical Governments as well as enforcing the International Statute of Secrecy on a global scale. The I.S.S. is exactly what it sounds like - laws and regulations that keep the world of Magic secret from the rest of the planet - and has been in place since the late seventeenth century."

"I have to keep my son's Gifts - his 'magic' - a secret from everyone else?" Tony questioned, leaning back in his seat with his fingers tented together against his lips.

"Yes," Dr. Pippenger nodded. "There are exemptions, of course, but those are limited to immediate family - parents and siblings - only."

"Well that just won't do." Tony huffed. "There are already four other people that are aware of Harry's Gifts, and none of them are related. We've been testing him and his abilities since he was five years old and now that we know of others with the same talents I had been hoping to increase my team and to increase our data pool and see if we could not expand on our already existing findings. The success we've had in the last five years or so have been phenomenal and groundbreaking, really."

The pair stared at him with unveiled wonder. Dr. Pippenger cleared his throat. "You've been experimenting on your own son?"

The scowl that darkened Tony's face would have frightened anyone who knew the man, and to those who didn't it was downright terrifying. "I have never, nor will I ever, _experiment_ on my son! What I have been doing is monitoring him as his Gifts manifested and then studied the readings gathered from the simulations that were performed in a controlled setting."

"Forgive me, Mr Stark," Dr. Pippenger hastily apologized. "That did not come out as I intended. No, what you're describing is something that has been conducted for the last decade by the Arcane Science Departments of both Stanford and N.Y.U. - both on the Magical Campus' of course. They've been trying to see if our ability to access the world's magic is not unlike the recently discovered X-gene. Though, from my understanding, they have been unable to get far in their research as the magic continues to interfere with the computers and testing equipment."

"Most likely because they're not shielding for the Electrostatic discharge that is produced when the basal ganglia of the brain flares - for lack of better term - whenever an ability is engaged." Tony spoke flippantly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "The trick was finding the way to protect the circuitry since the discharge didn't register as a typical EMP. Tree formation circuits and induction shielding around components helped to a degree, and Faraday cages are problematic to produce on such a small scale, but it wasn't until we were able to localize the exact frequency that the Flare resonated on that we were finally able to create an alloy composed of silver, titanium and adamantium. The silver weakens the indestructibility of the adamantium but it is more than adequate for our purposes. The patent is actually in both mine and Harry's name, as he was the catalyst for the discovery, and will see him earn his first billion independently before he's forty; all without having to work a day in his life!"

Madam Racine gaped at him. "You've been able to counter the effect Magic has on technology?"

"Now, I can't say for certain in regards to all forms of 'Magic'," Tony admitted, "But we've been able to protect against everything Harry can do. The sustained shield he is able to produce was tricky but there haven't been any incidences in over a year now."

"A sustained shield?" Dr. Pippenger queried.

Tony hummed and gave an affirmative nod as he picked up his bottle of water and finished the last of the water. "Yes. A dome-like shield constructed of pale blue energy. We have yet to duplicate the effect with a machine, mostly because it continually resonates at a different frequency depending on the scenario presented to Harry."

Madam Racine rose to her feet, took a few steps away and drew a slender, ornate stick from her sleeve. "A shield like this? _Protego Maxima!_"

A flash of blue erupted from the tip of her wand, expanding near instantaneously into a curved wall directly in front of her body. She held it for a few seconds before letting her arm bring the wand down and cancel the spell.

"Protego Maxima; was that a spell? And the effect is similar," Tony gestured with his finger pointing at the woman. "Except it wasn't localized in front. Harry produces a complete dome that encases him and anyone in contact with him." Dr. Pippenger sat in silent awe as Madam Racine retook her seat with a matching expression. Tony couldn't help but smirk at their reaction. "I take it that's not the norm with such 'magic'?"

"You must understand, Mr Stark," Madam Racine began somewhat breathlessly, "what you're describing... The standard Shield Charm, the Protego spell, is a Senior Level Charm. It's not taught to our students before they enter high school. The spell I cast, Protego Maxima, is a Master Level Charm and the average Witch and Wizard will never be able to cast it successfully. A complete, physical dome takes at least half a dozen casters each consciously maintaining the spell. It's a significant drain on their magic and usually only every performed in the direst of situations. That your son... He consistently creates this dome? Consciously? It's not accidental?"

"Every time," Tony confirmed. "Well, the first was probably accidental; when he was five years old and a fire broke out in my lab at home. I was injured and unconscious and Harry kept the smoke and flames away from us both until help arrived. When we began testing at Stark Industries, a couple years ago, we would give him scenarios - another fire, an earthquake, bullets, energy weapons, people coming at him - and ask him to create the shield. Every test was hypothetical, of course, but every time he is able to manifest the dome. When he's older we'll move on to actual physical simulations."

There was another moment of stunned silence before Tony chuckled and put aside his now empty bottle. "Okay, I'm getting that my kid is special. He's like his old man that way; can't be anything but exceptional. Now, so far, I like what I've hear. But I need to know what you'll do if my son decides - and ultimately it is his decision - to attend your school."

"Do, Mr Stark?" Dr. Pippenger asked, obviously relieved to be back on somewhat familiar territory.

"Yes, do." Tony reiterated. "Several years ago he was kidnapped, from school, before escaping. We transferred him to a secured, private boarding school where specific security precautions were taken. He's been there nearly two years now and is quite happy with the arrangement we have with the school and its Head."

"I can assure you, Mr. Stark," Madam Racine declared confidently, "that the security of C.A.S.S. in top of the line. We haven't had a serious breach in our defenses in two decades and only those invited onto campus can get through the gates. As it is, Baselines unaware of what we actually are would find themselves subject to the wards and turned away without even realizing it wasn't their choice."

"What about the stadium?" Tony asked. "You mentioned it seats a great number more than the school populations so it's apparent that you host inter-school games?"

"Yes," Madam Racine nodded, "the stadium is used for both the School intramural teams for football, soccer, Quidditch and Quodpot, and the games between the other schools. It is also used by the San Francisco 49ers, the Quodpot Team that is, during the season. The Stadium hosts its own separate set of Wards as well as a dedicated portkey terminal, with game tickets doubling as the portkeys themselves. The wards do not let anyone in who does not have a ticket and anyone who does not possess current school identification is barred from crossing the wards onto school grounds. Even the Quodpot players themselves cannot cross the boundaries."

"Acceptable. Now, what about a magical threat?" he asked seriously. "If your society is as integrated with the rest of the country as you claim, Harry's name - My name - will be just as well known. So you can understand my concern when it becomes known, in your society, whom exactly is enrolled in your school."

"As I already state, only those invited onto campus can enter the premises." Madam Racine restated. "Because we cannot completely close off the school to outsiders - guest lecturers, visiting alumni, and such - we are always fully aware of who is on the grounds and how long they will be so. Harry would be well protected here, Mr. Stark. However, I'm certain we can come to further arrangements to your satisfaction. I must admit, after hearing about what young Harry is capable of, I am eager to have him numbered among our incoming students."

"Well then," Tony's smile was practically predatory. "Let's talk details."

...

**February 17, 2006**

**California Academy of Science &amp; Sorcery**

"Mr. Stark, Miss Potts; I'm Dr. Pharr."

Tony ignored the hand being offered to him by the man in the white lab coat, scowling at being made to wait to see his son. "Where's Harry? Is he all right? What happened?"

"Harry's going to be fine, Mr. Stark." The physician motion to a couple of chairs along the wall and joined them when they couple reluctantly sat.

"What happened?" Tony demanded again, worry marring his face. "I got a call that Harry had been hurt in class."

"There was an accident in the Potion's lab." Dr. Pharr explained gently. "It was due to nothing on any of the student's parts but the Teacher's Assistant who mislabeled a couple of ingredients. It caused the potions of several students to ignite and four of them were hurt in the resulting explosion."

"Explosion!" Pepper gasped in horror.

"Not uncommon, I'm afraid, especially for the sixth grade students as they are just beginning their magical education." Dr. Pharr shook his head. "From what the instructor saw, Harry was the first to notice the danger and tried to shield his classmates when the first potion began to react. He banished the students closest to the potions that had gotten to that step but, in a matter of seconds it was too late and cauldrons ignited. He activated that dome shield of his around the cauldrons themselves which, unfortunately, left him in the center of the blast. He suffered second and third degree burns to his left arm and side of his face and had lost his ear in the explosion. In truth, he saved lives today, Mr. Stark, with little thought to his own."

Tony felt ill and Pepper wasn't faring much better. "Oh my god."

"It sounds a lot worse than it is," the doctor tried to assure them. "Magical means of healing were able to treat the burns easily enough and they will heal without leaving a scar in seven to ten days, so long as he keeps using the burn paste. His ear had to be regrown but other than a difference in skin pigment you can't tell. A few days in the sun will fix that. Give him a couple of weeks and you'll never know it had happened."

"And what of the other students hurt?" Pepper asked. "Are their parents here?"

Dr. Pharr shook his head. "They have been notified, but the others only sustained minor burns or abrasions and one broke her wrist as she fell when Harry knocked her out of the way. They've already been healed and sent back to their dorms. Harry was the worst off and needed to be sedated while undergoing treatment. He will be staying in the Clinic for a couple of days."

Tony surged to his feet. "I need to see him."

"Of course," Dr. Pharr smiled and led the couple down the corridor.

The father was anxious as they were led to the open door nearest the nurses' station. He knew what the doctor had told him, but the ache to see Harry for himself was overwhelming. He was not prepared for how it would feel, however, to see his son lying in the hospital bed with his eyes closed. It tore into him, even knowing that Harry was going to be fine. If things had gone a different way today, he could have lost his son.

The bright orange past coated the entire left side of Harry's face and most of his upper left arm. Doctor Pharr had been right; the ear, while lighter than the rest of Harry's skin, was perfectly shaped and exactly how Tony remembered it being. He had read the books and journals on Magical healing, but to actually see what it was capable of was astounding. It was a shame that most magical treatments did not work on those without magic.

Pulling a chair over to the right side of the bed, Tony situated himself in it and reached out to hold the hand of Harry's uninjured arm. Pepper was already in the corner of to room talking quietly on her cell; most likely letting Obadiah know what was going on.

Dr. Pharr checked a couple of things on the equipment at the head of Harry's bed before turning to Tony. "He'll be out until morning, at least. He's our only overnight patient so you're welcome to stay with him. Just have one of the nurses transfigure a bed for you when you're ready."

"Thank you."

...

**July 4, 2006**

**Washington, DC**

"Mr. Stark, Mr. Stark, can I begin by telling you how thrilled I am to be meeting you both?"

Harry forced a polite smile on his face as he shook hands with the rather intimidating woman who greeted them when he and his father entered the office in the Capitol. It really wasn't all that strange for one Senator or another to want to meet with his father, especially those as part of the Senate Arms Services Committee. What was odd was when the senator in question asked for Harry to accompany him. It had made both Starks a little uneasy when the request came through Pepper and it was only when they learned that Senator Sharron Christiansen was the Party Chairman of the M.U.A. that they agreed to have Harry join Tony in Washington.

In a way only Tony Stark could pull off, he casually ignored the offered hand and countered her greeting. "Only if I can respond by telling you how curious I am as to why you wanted my son with me, Senator."

The elderly lady, somewhere in her late seventies, with short silver-blonde hair had quirked her lips in amusement. "Straight to the point then, Mr. Stark? How refreshing." She gestured to a low table framed by a pair of suede sofas. "I have been watching your accomplishments for some years now, Mr. Stark. I was Party Secretary when your name, Harry - do you mind if I call you Harry?"

"Not at all, Ma'am." Harry consented as he took his seat next to his father. "It'll get confusing otherwise if you refer to us both as 'Mr. Stark'."

"Thank you," she tilted her head in thanks. "As I was saying, I was Party Secretary when your name first registered on the American Book of Souls." She gestured to a large tome encased in a box of thick glass situated a tall bookcase. "The Stark name is well known across this country, from the accomplishments of both your Father and Grandfather. So you can imagine my surprise when your name appeared on the listing and at only seventh months of age."

"Why is that?'" Tony blurted. "Why is he any different than any other Baseline-Born Wizard?"

"Because of whom you are, Mr. Stark." The politician answered honestly. "You are _The Name_ in the Weapons Industry in this country as well as a leader in technological advances for the general populace. You are now aware of our Society and have been making waves ever since you got here." The regal Witch leaned forward in her seat on the sofa opposite them and jabbed her finger in Tony's direction. "You, Mr. Stark, are changing everything we have ever thought we knew about Magic and what it meant to be a Witch or Wizard."

A surge of pride filled Harry as he realized why the Senator had wanted to see his father. Within weeks of joining the Magical Society, Tony Stark had taken it by storm. Colluding with the Scientists and Wizards of the Arcane Science Department of Stanford University, he had given the labs a complete overhaul of computers and equipment. Everything lines and shielded with the alloy that served the same purpose in Stark Industries: protecting the technology from Magic.

Except it wasn't Magic, exactly.

They had been searching the human genome for evidence that 'Magic' was in truth just another mutation; much like the recently discovered X-Gene. However, what they found instead was that Wizards were genetically no different than any other Baseline. A wizard's brain developed differently which enabled them to harness and redirect the natural bio-electrical energies of every living organism. Everything natural in the world exuded these energies which gave them a near infinite amount of power to tap in to.

This led to the discovery of an area of the brain, one typically with limited activity in a Baseline brain function, which seemed to react when the energy was tapped. This 'quirk' in their brains allowed them to store the energy inside the body and release it as they directed; to release it as Magic.

In some individuals that activity was negligible, like those that were commonly referred to as squibs. The degree of activity ranged from barely noticeable to those with the ability to harness greater amounts of power; people like Madam Racine and other Masters in their fields. The varying levels of power soon became referred to as the Stark Spectrum, or the S.S.

At the Senator's accusation, Tony started with feigned bewilderment. "Was that's a bad thing?"

The pre-teen couldn't help but snort his amusement, quickly smothering it with his hand, only to have it echoed by Senator negligible herself. "Heavens, no! I wanted to speak to you about a proposal, Mr. Stark. I would like to submit your findings to the I.C.W."

"Why?" the inventor asked bluntly.

"The world around us is changing exponentially every day, Mr. Stark," she began seriously. "And every day the Magical population of the world is getting left behind. Every day, the fact that millions of Witches and Wizards across the globe are unable to blend with regular society is bringing us that bit closer to revealing the existence of our people.

"The creation of the I.C.W. in the late seventeenth century was the only way at the time to protect Witches and Wizards from the ever growing persecution. This was made necessary because of the Church and State led Witch Hunts throughout Europe and even here in America. The I.C.W. intends to keep us hidden until the end of time because they fear that persecution will begin again. However, your findings now give us the scientific proof that we are no different than any other human being on this planet. Despite that one little quirk, as you so call it, the Baseline World will have to afford us the same human rights as everyone else on the planet.

"If I can take this to the I.C.W. and convince them of the validity of these findings, it could lay the foundation to the day when our existence is revealed to the world and we no longer need hide."

Tony was frowning and, Harry could see, thoroughly unimpressed with the impassioned plea. "No."

The Senator seemed as taken aback as Harry was at the absolute refusal. "I beg your pardon?"

"No," Tony reiterated forcefully. "To present the findings from the Study at this stage would draw more attention from your Society than I am comfortable with. Not only that, more than two hundred of your people were tested to create the Spectrum. Their names are part of the Study and would be publicly known."

"And why is that a concern, Mr. Stark? You would think that they would be honoured to have been part of Magical History."

"Because Harry was part of the Study, as you well know, and he tested far beyond any of the other participants that he could not be classified by the Spectrum." Tony scowled at the politician. "I have no intention of parading my son around the international arena just so that 'Some Day' your people don't have to look over your shoulder."

Pursing her lips together, Senator Christiansen glanced over at Harry before turning her attention back to Tony. "I assure you, I have no desire to 'parade' Harry around like some show pony. However, the fact remains that Harry has tested beyond the upper most end of the Spectrum. According to these findings, he surpasses some of the most powerful Wizards and Witches in this country. There are those in the I.C.W. that would want to have themselves tested, not only in an attempt to disprove your findings, but to prove that a child of twelve is _not_ more powerful than them."

Harry had pulled his lower lip between his teeth, chewing on it anxiously, as he listened to the adults arguing. "Dad, maybe-"

"No." Tony snapped, turning to look at his son pointedly.

Right then, Harry knew exactly why his father didn't want it to happen. He was trying to protect Harry; to keep his name and his power from coming to the attention of THEM. Every since Harry started school at C.A.S.S. he had been afraid that THEY would find him and take him away from his Dad. He couldn't bring himself to hold back in his classes or with his abilities - Tony had always taught him to do and be the best he possible could - and every time he did something far from what was expected of a Wizard his age he was terrified that this would be the thing that brought THEM to their door.

But the truth was he was tired of being afraid all the time.

Their shared look was not missed by the woman in their company. She frowned at them and crossed her legs at the ankles before leaning back on the sofa. "May I inquire as to what that silent exchange meant, gentlemen?"

Not looking away from Tony, Harry was uncomfortably aware of the Senator's piercing gaze. "They're going to keep pushing, Dad."

"It doesn't matter," Tony answered, ignoring the third presence in the room. "It's my Study, my findings, I paid for it, and I say no."

"This changes everything, Dad!" Harry exclaimed. "The Study changes everything! You shouldn't have to bury it because of me!"

"Excuse me," Senator Christiansen raised her voice, refusing to be discounted, and both Starks looked at her scowling face. "I feel like I'm missing a rather large piece of the puzzle here."

"Maybe she can help," was all Harry said to his father.

Tony huffed and slouched back in his seat, his arms folded over his chest in silent indignation. He looked at his son, then the Senator, then back to Harry. Seeing the look in Harry's eyes, the one Tony had never been able to say no to, he sighed. Sitting up he told the woman succinctly, "Fine. Harry's mother was a Witch."

"I was unaware of an American with by the name of Elizabeth Jade Stark - her maiden name was not on any record we could find."

"That's because she doesn't exist." With another sigh, Tony rubbed at his eyes before speaking again. "Senator, anything else I tell you beyond this must be treated with the utmost secrecy. I can have my people draw up a nondisclosure agreement-"

"Or you can swear on your magic not to reveal what we're about to tell you?" Harry inserted in a rush of words.

The woman regarded them both critically before nodding once and withdrawing her wand, elegantly carved of white Ash, from the sleeve of her blazer. "You have been taught the standard Magical Oath, Harry?"

"Yes ma'am." Harry's own wand - Sequoia with a tail feather from a North American Thunderbird core - found its way into his hand and he held it out in front of him.

The Witch stretched her wand arm as well and the tips crossed between them. "I, Sharron Mariah Christiansen, do swear on my Magic not to reveal what is about to be revealed to me by Harold Anthony Stark and his father by any means to anyone living or dead, real or fictitious, until the time I am release of my vow. By the power of three by three, so mote it be."

"I, Harold Anthony Stark, do accept the oath as given to me by Sharron Mariah Christiansen. By the power of three by three, so mote it be." Harry intoned.

There was a spark like static electricity between the two pieces of wood and a faint smell of ozone filled the air. It faded almost instantly and the wands were tucked away once more.

Harry looked at Tony bashfully before he shrugged. "It's quicker than waiting for lawyers and a guarantee that she can't say anything."

"He's quite right," Senator Christiansen nodded. "I will be unable to even make the attempt let alone successfully divulge whatever secret you have to tell me. If I did, I would lose my magic and forever be marked as an Oath Breaker."

"Basically," Harry explained further, "her own Magic won't let her tell anyone anything about Mom."

Tony nodded. "I'm good with that."

...

**January 14, 2007**

**Stanford University, California**

_"Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy!"_

"Protego!"

Tony watched as the three burst of red light sped across the room and splashed against the chests of three people standing in front of a padded partition. Of the three, only one remained standing and she was shaking her head and lowering her wand.

Tony cursed. Pressing the intercom button his voice sounded inside the testing chamber. "That's enough for today. Revive Santos and Walt and get them taken care of. Good job everyone."

"We were so close."

Tony sighed and turned to the man standing beside him. "The Dampener still doesn't work for Baselines or those who register low on the Spectrum. And Chelsea still isn't able to cast when wearing it."

"That's not really surprising though." Dr. Daniel Kirkland, head of the Arcane Science Division of Stanford University, cajoled the genius. "The Dampener turns a person's core inward to create a barrier. Baselines don't have a core, the other is barely sufficient to allow them to register on the Spectrum at all, and if Chelsea was able to tap into her core it would negate the barrier. Still, what you've accomplished Tony is nothing short of phenomenal. In the eighteen months you've been a part of our society you've changed everything we ever thought we knew about Magic. You should be proud of that."

It was true.

But it wasn't enough. Not for Tony.

"Look," Dr. Kirkland started shutting down the equipment in the control room, "It may not be what you set out to create, but the Dampener as it is still has a dozen different applications. At least. It could revolutionize the way we penalize magical criminals. Imagine being able to shut them off from their magic during their imprisonment!"

Nodding absently, Tony reached for the intercom again. "Chelsea, can you meet us up in the Control Room please." He turned back to Dr. Kirkland as they waited. "The whole point was to give people protection - like the Magical Police Units - and still allowing them to use their abilities. The magical equivalent of a bullet-poof vest!"

"Like Harry?" Daniel smirked. "I can empathize with you, Tony. Annabelle is going to be graduating C.A.S.S. this spring and I'd love to be able to offer her something like this that can protect her when she heads for the Arcane University in Toronto in the fall. The Dampener isn't it, but that doesn't mean we have to stop trying here."

"You wanted to see me, Mr. Stark? Dr. Kirkland?" The young grad student had tucked her wand behind her ear and approached the pair.

"Just need your observations of the latest tests, Chelsea." Tony told her, motioning to a round table for them to sit. "Was there any change with this new version?"

She shook her head as she took her chair, clasping her hands together on the surface of the table. "Not really. I didn't feel it at first; it was at least thirty seconds before I felt... off. It wasn't painful, just uncomfortable, but not as bad as the first few prototypes you had me test. I still didn't like wearing it."

"And your core," Dr. Kirkland pressed, "did you feel any different?"

Again the young woman shook her head. "No. I could still sense it - I knew it was there - but it was like I couldn't reach it. I tried the Protego charm to block Rick's stunner but it was like trying to cast after being fed a suppression potion. It was like I was cut off from my magic."

"Can you tell us anything else?" Tony asked.

"I could feel when his stunner hit me this time." She shrugged nonchalantly. "It didn't hurt, but there was a definite impact."

"All right, thank you Chelsea." Dr. Kirkland nodded his appreciation to the girl. "If we need you for more testing next week we'll let you know."

"Sounds good." She rose from her chair and smiled at the pair, taking the time to shake both of their hands. "Thanks for letting me be a part of this. It was pleasure working with you both."

When she was gone, Tony leaned back in the chair and chewed on his lip in thought. "What if we tweaked the frequency to resonate at the same pulse as the wearer's own wave length instead of a generalized one? Or something that can be turned on or off?"

Daniel laughed and shook his head. "Tony, take a break! You've been working on this for the past nine months. It's not perfect yet, but let's work with what we've got. The Dampener neutralizes stunners. That's huge. Let me and my team work with it now and see just what charms, hexes and curses it'll block. Once we know that, we can petition the M.U.A. for special dispensation to start testing with the Big Three. We've got another four years before we take it to the I.C.W. Let's get as much information about as many things as we can, all right?"

"Yeah," Tony sighed again and looked at his watch. "I need to get back to Malibu. I have a meeting in the morning and it's a six hour drive, but I wanted to swing by C.A.S.S. to see Harry since I'm here."

"Go," Dr. Kirkland told him. "I can write up today's results."

"Thanks Danny, I'll see you in a couple weeks unless you call me."

...

**October 13, 2007**

**C.A.S.S., California**

"And Stark scores again! The California Academy now leads the Miami Magical Institute 240 to 110! A few more goals like that and it won't matter who catches the Snitch!"

Tony was cheering with the rest of the crowd as his son cut around the Pot he had just dumped the Quod into. Harry was grinning madly from ear to ear as his broom joined up with the others of his team. Happy and Obadiah were a little more restrained in their jubilation, but Pepper was cringing in her seat.

"I fail to understand why we are letting him play this insane game in the first place?" She practically shrieked, gesturing to the field and the sixteen remaining players flying around at fifty feet above ground. "Smoking, Tony! That ball was smoking!"

"What's so hard to understand?" Laughing at the horror on her face, Tony slid back into the stadium seat and leaned in so he didn't have to shout as game play continued with the inclusion of another Quod. "The Quaffle goes through the hoop, each worth ten points; The Bludger and the beaters bats are defense; The Snitch is the tiny little gold thing that ends the game worth one hundred fifty; But the Quod, the ball Harry typically handles, is worth 15 when dunked into that silver fluid in the Pot, 20 if its sparking, and 25 if it's smoking. Really, it's all very simple."

Pepper flinched when a sudden explosion filled the stadium and the crowd went wild. Tony was on his feet once more, cheering with the rest as the player from Miami was drifting down to the visitor bench, a stunned expression on her face and her left glove smoldering. She was the fifth of their eleven player team to be taken out by the exploding Quod.

As another silver ball flew into play from the sidelines, Pepper grabbed hold of Tony's arm and yanked him back into his chair. "Explodes, Tony! That ball explodes!"

"I know!" Tony was ginning as wildly as his son, who had just taken possession of the Quod again, flew between the other players, dodging Quaffles, and juggling the now sparking Quod to his other hand. "Best! Game! Ever!"

"And C.A.S.S. sinks the Quod again!"

...

**May 28, 2008**

**Hogwarts, Scotland**

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was not a happy wizard.

In fact, if truth be told, he was a very scared wizard.

He had been watching the events in the Department of Mysteries from beneath the borrowed Potter invisibility cloak. He had been watching as Neville, the Boy-Who-Lived, and his friends faced off against the Deatheaters in the Hall of Prophecy. It was all going to perfectly to plan that he had no doubt that when the time came, Neville would not only defeat the Dark Lord that threatened Albus' powerbase but would be the willing martyr he was meant to be.

The Wizards of England did not need more than one Saviour, and Dumbledore would be hero enough.

However, he had not been anticipating the discovering of the Prophecy Orb. Whereas every other glass sphere contained a milky white fog, the globe marked with Lord Voldemort's and Neville Longbottom's names was a solid black and red mass. When Neville had tried to touch it, no one was more surprised than Dumbledore when it has burned the boy's hand.

This did not bode well for Dumbledore's plans.

Without waiting to see the outcome of the battle, Dumbledore scurried out of the Department of Mysteries and back to Hogwarts. It was nearing midnight when he crested the stairs into Trelawney's tower and, still hidden under the cloak, entered her chambers where he Rennervated the drunk woman before petrifying her.

"Let's find out what happened, my dear," He muttered to himself as he leveled his wand at her. "_Legilimens!"_

He pushed effortlessly into her mind, the years of potion laced Alcohol making it easy to travel her thoughts as he had many times before. He went back, back to when the Prophecy had first been spoken. Slowly, he crept forward through her memories, disregarding insignificant predictions that bore no relevance to Voldemort or Neville. He found what he was looking for less the same day she took up residence in the tower of Hogwarts.

_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord has been lost... born of she who defied the Fates, lost as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will know him not, but he will have power untold... hidden unseen in the Land of Gold, reclaim as a child lest Merlin's land will wither and die... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord has been lost as the seventh month dies..._

Obliviating the Seer of his night's activities before he left, Dumbledore staggered back to his office before he finally rid himself of the cloak and slumping into his elaborate chair behind his desk. He was... Stunned wasn't a strong enough word. Flabbergasted? Astounded? Staggered?

Neville Longbottom, the Boy-Who-Lived he may be, was not the one who would defeat the Dark Lord. Every hope, every plan and plot, all his schemes and maneuverings, had been built around the boy. Some quirk of fate had let him survive the killing curse at a year of age but, if he were honest, Dumbledore could not say the boy was otherwise remarkable. His friends held more power and for all the adventures and tests he had undergone over the years, it was only their influence that enabled the boy to survive as long as he had.

_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord has been lost... born of she who defied the Fates_

There was only one that Dumbledore could reconcile with the new prophecy. The first would-be Potter child had vanished with his mother fourteen years ago. The Head to the Ancient and Nobel house of Potter had been incensed that the Mudblood had managed to overcome the compulsions long enough to disappear and hide herself. James Potter had consoled himself by seducing a pureblood witch from Germany into marrying him and he spelled the seed of a Mudblood wizard into himself before impregnating his wife. The instant the Potter son had been born in early October 1995 James had Dumbledore perform the blood rite that would bind the child to his bloodline and magic.

Except Magic did not recognize the new babe as the Heir to the Potter Magic; a secret Dumbledore refused to tell the Potter Clan lest they withdraw their political clout from Dumbledore's side.

Dumbledore had lost his hold on the next generation of Potter Magic, but when his searching spells had revealed Lily Evans died a month prior to her due date he had assumed the baby had died with her. He could do nothing to find the baby; he didn't even know if it was a boy or girl. In the end, he decided so long as James Potter didn't discover the truth it didn't matter. Especially when Voldemort attacked the Longbottom's on Hallowing 1995 and little Neville survived the killing curse. Dumbledore had his Prophecy Child.

Except the blackened orb in the Department of Mysteries, and Trelawney's new prophecy, proved otherwise.

_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord has been lost..._

Yes, there was really only one word in the English language that described how Dumbledore felt right then.

"Fuck!"

...

**December 22, 2008**

**C.A.S.S., California**

"Bye Harry! Have a Merry Christmas!"

Tony watched from his place leaning against the sedan as yet another girl bounded over to his son and kissed him on the cheek.

Fourteen year old Harry was definitely a chip off the old block. Already 5'6", his dark curls only accentuated his tanned skin and offset his striking eyes; he drew in the girls like a moth t a flame. This was already the fifth girl, in the twenty minutes Tony had been there, that had kissed Harry. "Bye Tabitha; have fun in Jamaica."

Happy was trying not to smirk as he took the messenger bag from Harry, after the boy took out a large envelope, and headed for the open trunk of the car. They were parked not far from the main entrance of the School Annex, where several hundred teenagers were milling about waiting for rides and saying good-bye to their friends.

"Harry!" Another girl made her way out of the crowd and leaped at the younger stark, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him full on the lips. "Enjoy your break. Will I see you on New Year's Eve?"

Oblivious to their observers, or at least not caring, Harry let his hands rest on the petite blonde's hips as she still hadn't let go of his neck yet. "Probably not; I'm sticking around Malibu this year. Unless, of course, you wanted to swing by my Dad's corporate party?"

"Blech," the girl sneered and finally took a step back. "Boring! Well, if you're going to be stuck with a bunch of old Baseline's then I suppose I can forgive you for not coming to my party."

Harry sighed and shook his head. "Be nice, Lorraine."

The girl huffed again, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "Yeah yeah; _Baseline's are no different than you or me_. Gag me!" She kissed him again (was that tongue?) before flouncing off with a little wave. "Merry Christmas, Harry!"

Tony pushed off from the car and closed the distance to his son. "Gag me!" He mimicked the girl's high pitched voice. "I just saw some trollop frenching my son in public!"

Smacking the back of his hand against his father's chest, Harry rolled his eyes. "Please, shall we compare what I've seen some of your 'trollops' do to you in public."

"Touché." Tony glanced back at Happy as the bodyguard closed the trunk. "Well, we ready to head out yet?"

"Just about," Harry took a pair of sunglasses from where they were hooked on the collar of his t-shirt and slid them into place on his face. He held up the envelope still in his hand. "I'm waiting for the Olszewski Trio and Drew; then we can go."

"The What Trio?" Tony arched an eyebrow curiously.

"Olszewski. A pair of identical twins and their fraternal twin sister; so triplets, technically, I suppose." He explained, scanning the crowd from behind his shades. "Drew's their older brother and my partner in Advance Magical Defense. I lost a bet to him at the end of the semester and I owe him those tickets to the Coldplay concert in Belfast tomorrow night I had you get for me."

"I thought they were for us?" Tony blinked before shaking his head. "Do I want to know about this bet?"

Harry didn't even try to hide his smirk. "No, you really don't. Drew! Over here!"

Another blonde head bolted from the crowd and the pixie-like frame practically enveloped Harry with an ear-splitting squeal. Harry just smiled and patted the girl on the back. "Hey Mercy."

"You got the tickets!" She squealed again, an instant before a second blonde blur latched onto Tony's son.

"Grace," Harry greeted with a grunt as he tried to keep his balance.

"Oy!" A deeper voice bellowed from the edge of the crowd. "Let the man breath!"

He was older, sixteen or seventeen, and nearing six feet. He was built like a football player but his smile was soft and his light brown eyes were warm. He was accompanied by a third blonde haired girl of about Harry's age, though there were definite differences between the two others that were reluctantly peeling themselves off of Harry's frame.

"Hey, Harry." The girl stepped away from her older brother and kissed Harry chastely on the corner of his lips. "Merry Christmas, and thank you for getting the tickets."

"I never welch on a bet, Charity." Harry returned the smile and offered the envelope to Drew. "VIP suit at the Odyssey Arena, right over center stage. The portkey will take you and your family - make sure you have your parents with you - to the International Terminal in Belfast tomorrow morning at 10am, California time. Also, have your wands with you. Underage laws over there won't allow you to use them but you'll need them for identification purposes. The Penthouse Suite is booked under your name at the Fitzwilliam Hotel; any cabbie will be able to get you there. Anything you charge to the room, within reason, be it food, in room movies, or souvenirs, will be covered. Try to keep it under five thousand, m'kay? The portkey will bring you back to the terminal in LAX exactly seventy-two hours after your arrival, so don't lose it. Now, what you do between getting there and leaving is entirely up to you."

"Dude," Drew inhaled slowly as he took the proffered envelope. "You rock! I thought some nosebleed seats and a portkey, not this!"

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, well, Merry Christmas."

Mercy and Grace squealed and glomped onto Harry, again, who only managed to keep his feet under him because Happy was suddenly there keeping him up. They lathered his face with kisses, each taking turns at capturing his lips. Drew was still stunned but one glance at Tony's unimpressed expression had him prying his sisters off Harry.

Charity sneaked in, cupping Harry's face between her hands and once more kissing the younger slowly - Wow, that was one Hollywood worthy kiss! - and left Harry standing there in a daze.

Once farewells were made, a few more shouted across the gathered throng of students, parents and teachers, Tony managed to get his son into the car and Happy was driving them out of the gate. A comfortable silence descended on the occupants while Tony observed his son as Harry attempted to wipe the various shades of lip-gloss from his face.

With a wry grin playing across his face, Tony removed the pocket-square from the breast pocket of his suit and held it out for Harry. "You lost that bet on purpose." It wasn't a question.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." The smirk on Harry's face was answer enough.

...

**April 28, 2009**

**Malibu, California**

_"Oh my god, will you quit calling!"_

Tony looked up at the video of his son's exasperated expression when he finally answered the phone. "I'm sorry," the older man drawled when he noticed Harry's flushed cheeks and bare torso, setting aside the tools he was working with. "Am I interrupting something?"

_"You had better damn well be dying,"_ Harry hissed through gritted teeth, green eyes flashing with frustration. _"You've called six times in the last eight minutes. You'd think, given that I didn't answer, you'd figure out that I didn't want to talk to you just now."_

Tony chuckled and leaned in closer to the video screen on his desk in his lab. "Harry, do I need to come to San Francisco to give you The Talk?"

_"Oh my god,"_ Harry's head disappeared and Tony heard the 'ka-thunk' of it hitting a hard surface, _"kill me now."_ Tony wasn't terribly surprised when he heard another voice trying not to laugh in the background. Harry's head suddenly snapped back up and it was clear he was unimpressed with his father_. "Dad, you gave me my first Playboy magazine when I was twelve. You gave me 'The Talk' when I was thirteen, and again on my last birthday; that time with diagrams and live models - And before you say it, hiring playboy bunnies to assist you in giving your fourteen year old son The Talk was wrong and I will be spending my inheritance on decades of therapy! Now, I will be fifteen in two months; I think I'm good on 'The Talk'."_

"Are you sure?" Tony drew out teasingly. "Are you using protection?"

_"Oh my god! Will you shut up please! You too!"_ Harry turned his head and jabbed a finger at the person off the screen.

"Oh, now that's no way to treat your guest, Harry!" Tony smirked and rested his chin on his upturned palm. "Why don't you let me say 'Hi'? Who is it? That blonde trollop I met at Christmas? Lorna?"

_"No,"_ Harry snarled, _"it's not Lorraine_."

"Oh, was it one of the sisters? Chastity or Sympathy? Something like that, wasn't it? The one that you lost the bet with their older brother on purpose for."

The room behind Harry went silent and the dark haired teenager hung his head, cheeks growing redder from embarrassment. _"No, I did not lose the bet with Drew on purpose."_ His head snapped up and he was wearing a phony grin that caused Tony to worry about his son's sanity. _"You know what, you should say 'hi'."_

Tony grew a little worried at the evil glint he saw reflected in his son's now smirking eyes. The camera shifted as Harry lifted his laptop from his desk, the image bouncing around as it moved. It stopped with a sudden jarring as Harry flopped onto the bed in his dorm room beside a body that was burying its head beneath the pillows. The back, which seemed a little too wide and square, for any of the girls he had seen at Christmas, was as bare as his son's chest and Tony couldn't help but blush.

_"Dad, you remember my A.M.D. partner, Drew, don't you?"_

Tony blinked and blinked again, slowly lifting his head from his hand just as the young man he had met at Christmas slowly withdrew his head from beneath the pillow. The blonde boy's face was beet red as he tentatively squeaked, _"Hi, Mr. Stark."_

The image bounced around again and soon the laptop was settled on the dorm room desk again. Harry wasn't visible at the moment, but Tony could hear low voices off screen and a door opening and closing after a rather telling moment of silence. A second later, Harry was back in front of the camera and sliding on a t-shirt.

_"Now, what was so important you had to interrupt my evening?"_

It took a couple of seconds before Tony could find his voice. "Is this... common, or a new development?"

_"Drew?"_ Harry shrugged, unmoved by his father's obvious consternation. _"Relatively new, I suppose. Since March."_

"But what about all those girls?!" Tony exclaimed incredulously. "The ones that were all over you when I picked you up before Christmas!"

_"You always taught me not to discriminate, Dad. Black, white, rich, poor... boy, girl..." _

"I didn't mean-" He cut himself off when he saw his son frown.

_"Is this going to be a problem?"_ Harry's voice was as cold as ice, but there was no denying the fear and hurt filling his jade eyes. _"I mean, yeah, I guess this wasn't the best way to tell you that I'm into guys __and__ girls, but I didn't think you-"_

"No!" Tony blurted hurriedly, desperate to erase that look from his son's face. "No, Harry, no it's not a problem. Just... I don't know how to give you THAT Talk."

A small smile and laugh, one filled with relief, sounded across the video feed. _"Don't worry about it, Dad. Dr. Pharr was more than qualified to help out a 'Curious young Wizard who was exploring all aspects of himself'. "_

"Good," Tony nodded, still a little stunned but coming out of it. "Good. Just, uh, have you and Drew..."

Harry's shake of the head was a relief to Tony. _"No, and I haven't with any girl either. I'm only fourteen. Not quite ready for that just yet."_

"Smart of you," Tony admitted. "I was thirteen my first time. Didn't really slow down after that."

_"And - no offense meant, Dad - it nearly got you killed by a Witch who was using you only as a sperm donor."_

"Touché. But, it did get me you."

Harry's smile was wide and it warmed Tony's heart as it did every time. _"So, other than cock-blocking your only son, why did you call me tonight so insistently?"_

"I just wanted to touch base with you before I headed out to Vegas in the morning."

_"That award thing, right? With Uncle James?"_

"That's the one." Tony picked up the tools he'd been working with earlier and resumed his fiddling with the component from Dum-E. "In theory I'm coming back to the house before flying out again for that weapon's presentation, but you aren't supposed to be back until after I'd gone. Why are you coming home in the middle of the week again? It'll only be Thursday."

Harry rolled his eyes with an affectionate sigh. _"I'm ahead in all my classes and, besides, you signed my permission slip more than a month ago. Uncle Obi's picking me up on the afternoon of the thirtieth and Happy will drive me back that Sunday, the third. I think Aunty P said you were back sometime on Saturday, the second, so we should be able to see each other when you get back from Afghanistan. For a bit at least."_

"And again I ask, why?"

_"It's the thirtieth, Dad. Remember: Aunty P's birthday? I never miss her birthday and I won't start this year. You didn't forget, did you?"_

"Me? Forget something as auspicious as Pepper's birthday?" Tony snorted indignantly. "How dare you infer my memory is anything less than stellar!"

_"You forgot."_

"I forgot." Tony shrugged. "Knowing me as she does, I'm sure she got herself something on my behalf that would been a thousand times better than anything I could have picked out for her myself."

Chuckling and shaking his head, Harry said _"Well, in case she didn't - and even if she did - there's a box in the top drawer of your desk. It's a pendant from Tiffany's Summer Collection that she'd commented on since she saw the campaign. Apparently it's a near exact replica of a pendant her Grandmother use to wear and had to sell during World War Two. I had Happy put it in there for you last week."_

Tony tilted back in his chair and pulled open the aforementioned draw. Sitting on top was an elegantly wrapped slender box. He looked back at his son and smiled. "Best. Son. Ever." He closed the drawer and sat back up to see the screen better. "But what are you getting her?

_"Beside the pleasure of my company?"_ Harry laughed at Tony's roll of his eyes. _"The matching earrings and tennis bracelet."_

Tony pouted. "She's going to know you picked out the necklace."

Harry only laughed harder.


	4. I Am Iron Man, Part One

**Chapter Four: I Am Iron Man, Part One**

**May 03, 2009**

**Malibu, California**

This was not how the weekend was supposed to go.

They were supposed to have a fun evening out for Pepper's birthday, the four of them; Pepper, Happy, Obadiah and Harry. Which they all had.

They were supposed to spend the following day indulging in slothfulness while the boss was away. A day lounging around the pool, or walking Rodeo Drive, or going to a movie. Which they all did.

They were supposed to have a relaxing Sunday brunch before Happy drove Harry back to San Francisco.

They were not, however, supposed to get a visit from the United States Air Force informing them that Tony Stark's convey had been attacked and the man was now missing in the Afghanistan desert.

Now, Sunday night, Harry was watching the sun dip into the ocean through the large windows while behind him dozens of military personnel conferred with Obadiah and Pepper as their comrades in Afghanistan searched through the wreckage and the survivors for any sign that Tony had _not_ been kidnapped by Afghani insurgents.

He tried not to hear the one officer who told Obadiah that it would be better for _them_ if they found a body.

"You okay, kid?"

Happy's strong voice drew Harry's attention for the crimson sky, and though he wanted to nod and say he was fine he could only shake his head and fight back the tears. Before he knew it, Happy's arms were tight around him and he was clutching to his bodyguard. His face was buried in the burly man's chest as his resolve crumbled and he practically choked on the sobs he'd held back all day.

He was barely aware of the silence suddenly filling the room or the hushed voices that made their excuses and promises to keep them informed. He felt another pair of arms pull him away from Happy and he was drawn into Obadiah's embrace. The tears kept coming.

"Shit, Harry," Obi sighed and tucked his head down, curling protectively around the teenager. "You didn't need to hear all of that."

"Is it true," he demanded hoarsely, drawing strength from his Uncle. "Would the Government really rather him de- dead instead of being held captive somewhere?"

Obadiah sighed again and guided the distraught boy to the sofa. He sat on the plush cushions with Harry nestled against him, much as he had done as a child. "Yes." He admitted.

"Obadiah!" Pepper gasped in astonishment that he would admit that to the teenager.

"He deserves the truth, Pepper," Obadiah shifted on the sofa until he was looking into Harry's tear stained face. "Yes, it's true that for the Government, having Tony a hostage for the terrorist would be a huge blow. He knows all their weapons, he designed most of them, and he's a certified genius. They could force him to do just about anything and that could prove disastrous for the US and her interests. From that standpoint, yes, the Government would hope for a body."

"And if they just want ransom?" Harry asked, trying not to think about what Obadiah had just told him or what it said about his own country.

"If they go to the government, the US won't pay it." The Executive Office disclosed. "The policy is not to negotiate with terrorists."

"And if they come to the Company," the tears were starting to dry up and Harry was getting angry. Angry at the sons-of-bitches who did this, and at the Government for being self serving bastards. "Will Stark Industries pay the ransom if they're asked for it?"

"If given proof of life, yes." Obadiah reached out and put an arm around Harry's shoulder, tugging him into the older man's side again. "Rhodey's said he won't come back until he's found your Dad. They're searching everywhere, but the mountains are riddled with caves and a labyrinth of connecting tunnels. It could take years just to search one range and still not find anything."

"Why are you telling me this," Harry asked around the lump that formed in his throat again. "Do you want him dead too?"

"Oh god, Harry, no!" Obadiah exclaimed and wrapped his arms tight around the teenager, seemingly taking comfort from the boy as much as Harry was taking it from him. "No, I want him home safe and sound and soon. But - but I have to be realistic, too, Harry. The odds are stacked against him; but then your father was never one to back down from any odds. If anyone can survive this and come home, it'll be him. And I swear to you: the instant we get any ransom demand I will pay it, even if I have to do it out of my own pocket."

Harry latched on to the man and breathed in deeply. "Thank you, Uncle Obi."

"Anytime, Kiddo." The man placed a soft kiss on top of Harry's hair. "I need something from you, right now though, Harry. I need you to tell me what you want to do. You're supposed to be in school tomorrow but I don't think I want you anywhere on your own right now."

"I can stay here with him." Both Pepper and Happy offered simultaneously.

"There are only a couple of weeks left until finals." Harry told them without withdrawing from Obadiah's hold. "I'm already ahead in all my classes. I can call the administration's office and take a leave of absence until he's home."

"And if that takes a while?" Pepper asked hesitantly. "If he's not back before your exams?"

Harry took in a shaky breath. "He wouldn't... whatever happens; he wouldn't want me to muck up my education. If he's not home before the end of the month I'll arrange to take all my exams one weekend in June. But..." He looked up at Obadiah. "I need to be here, Uncle Obi. I can't go back to school like nothing happened."

"All right," Obadiah nodded, running a hand over Harry's hair as the teenager laid his head back onto the older man's chest. "Do you want to stay here, with either Pepper or Happy?"

"Can I stay with you?"

Obadiah smiled and pressed his lips into Harry's hair again. "Absolutely, Kiddo. Why don't you gather a few things from your room while I call your school? We'll have them pack up your dorm room and ship it down. When we get Tony back, you'll both want to stay close to each other so I'll just withdraw you for the rest of the semester and we'll work something out for exams in June."

"Thanks, Uncle Obi. I don't want to imagine going through this without you here."

...

**Unknown Date**

**Unknown Location**

"I refuse."

_The infant was clutching to him with little hands to his arms and tiny fingers curling into the tuffs of chest hair. Tony was giggling - chuckling! He was a man and therefore chuckling - as the green eyes grew wide when his son's chubby little legs first touched the cool water of the outdoor pool. Baby Harry kicked his legs, his little heels thumping against Tony's torso, and babbled at the resulting splash of water. _

_"That's it, Mr. Stark," the swimming instructor coaxed the pair from where she stood waist deep in the shallow end. "Let him play. Let him know its fun and the water is nothing to be afraid of."_

Rough hands gripped his hair at the scalp, viciously pulling his head out of the trough of foul smelling and tasting water. He gasped for breath, gagging as the water trickled into his mouth and down his throat. He didn't get a chance to spit the fluid out as he was being forced headfirst into the water again.

_"I can't do it!"_

_"Yes you can, Hare-Bear, there's nothing to be afraid of. Just think of it like the pool at home but... bigger. And saltier. And colder."_

_"The waves are too big!"_

_"Just remember what I told you Harry: jump when the wave is right in front of you and let the swell pick you up. If it starts to crest- going all white and foamy-"_

_"-turn my back to it. I know I just..."_

_"What if I hold your hand; we'll do it together."_

_"... Okay Daddy."_

The hands on his shoulders were holding him down, his frantic kicks hitting nothing but air as he tried to shake them off him so he could breathe. He didn't think they were trying to convince him to build the goddamn missile for them anymore. No, they were just going to kill him in the donkey piss they called water.

_"Daddy..."_

He was never going to see his son again...

...

**May 29, 2009**

**Los Angeles, California**

The map was spread out on the floor of his room in Obadiah's penthouse. It was one of nearly a dozen but he would go through thousands if he needed to. Afghanistan was not a large country and so long as Tony hadn't been taken across the border and somewhere else - and even if he was - Harry would continue to search for him.

The delicate silver chain dangled from the ring finger on Harry's left hand, looped around the upturned finger as he slowly moved his hand over the map. The diamond tie clip hooked around the end of the chain had been taken from his father's bedroom, a gift from Harry (with an assist from Aunty P) for Tony's thirty-fifth birthday three years ago today.

"You should be sleeping, Kiddo." Obadiah's deep bass sounded from the doorway but Harry refused to look away from the map.

"Have they found him?" Harry asked even though he knew the answer. The Air Force, while technically still looking, didn't seem to be trying all that hard. Under the guise of expanding their search area they had withdrawn their troops, from the region Tony had gone missing from, a couple of days ago.

The bearded man entered the room and sat on the edge of Harry's bed, watching as the teenager continued his scrying. "What are you doing, Harry?"

"Looking for my father." He snapped; unblinking eyes focused on the map in front of him. "I refuse to believe he's dead." He stopped the movement of his hand as the diamond began to spin counter clockwise of its own accord.

Obadiah frowned. "There's been no word, no ransom demand. It's been nearly four weeks, Harry-"

"And if he were dead the diamond I'm using would have cracked," the dark haired teen snapped. The diamond's arc on the chain grew larger and he slowly started to move his hand back to the eastern provinces of Afghanistan. "He's still there, Obadiah, and he's waiting for his country - that apparently doesn't give a shit about him! - to come rescue him."

"Language, Harry."

"Fuck you, Uncle Obi!" Harry snarled, chucking the chain and tie clip onto the map in frustration. He leaped to his feet, grabbed one of the discarded maps and shoved it into the other man's chest. "This is the fifth time I've done this, and every time the pendant touches the map in the same spot! The _exact_ fucking spot! I can give you the goddamn coordinates but you're not fucking listening to me!"

With the patience afforded a man of his years, Obadiah put the map aside and stood from the bed. He gently took Harry by the arms and leaned down to look the boy in the eyes. "I have listened to you, Harry. I called Rhodey myself after you told me the first time; I trust you and your magic. But he can't exactly change the Air Force's search parameters because of your scrying, now can he? We can't tell them about it; you know that."

"But they're looking in the wrong place!" Harry insisted, his eyes wild with desperation. "They're a hundred miles away from where he is! They'll never find him if the don't-" He cut himself off as the windows started to rattle in their frames.

Obadiah heard it too and quickly guided the boy over to the bed where he guided Harry to sit on the mattress, crouching down in front of him and placing a steadying hand on his heaving chest. "Calmly, Harry. Get control..."

Harry grabbed on to Obadiah's arms, his head tilted down as he drew in a ragged breath as he tried to calm himself. He clenched his eyes shut and tried to ignore the angry tear that escaped from beneath his lids. It took nearly a full minute before the windows stopped shaking and Harry was able to look at his Uncle again.

"Take me over there."

The older man blinked at him incredulously. "I beg your pardon?"

"Afghanistan; take me over there. You, me, Happy and a S.I. security team. If the Air Force won't look for Dad where I know he is, then fuck'em! We'll go and once we're there I can do a more localized search spell and we can find him in a matter of hours!"

"Oh no!" Obadiah shook his head. "There is no chance in hell that I'm - no, Harry. I know how much you want to find your father and believe me, I want that too! But Tony would never forgive me if I even entertained the thought of taking you into a goddamn war zone!"

"But I can find him!"

With an exhausted sigh, Obadiah lifted himself from the floor and sat on the bed beside his pseudo nephew. He wrapped his arms around the boy and drew him into a hug. "Harry, no."

The sob was broken and unbidden, but Harry couldn't stop it. He let himself disappear inside the older man's embrace, putting his own arms around Obadiah's torso and holding onto him as he cried for what seemed like the hundredth time since Tony had gone missing.

"But I can find him..."

...

**Unknown Date**

**Unknown Location**

"You still haven't told me where you're from."

The gaunt man sitting across from him hummed as he shook the dice in his palm. "I'm from a small town called Gulmira. It's actually a nice place."

Tony watched as Yinsen let the dice fall to the makeshift board between them. "Got a family?"

"Yes," the man confirmed, moving the pieces about. "And I will see them when I leave here. And you, Stark?"

After years of keeping Harry a secret, or as much of a secret as he could, he couldn't help but hesitate at the question. But the more he thought about the son he hadn't seen in several weeks, the more he needed to talk about him. "A son. He'll be fifteen soon."

Yinsen smiled. "So you truly are the man who has everything."

Tony chuckled and picked up the dice. "I suppose I do. None of it matters though; only Harry. I use to think I was happy with my life but then..."

"Then you had him?" Yinsen nodded knowingly "It is always that way for a parent. You may not have set out to have a child, and yet now you cannot imagine your life without them in it."

"Something like that." He tossed the dice absently. "It's clichéd, but he really is my greatest achievement. He's smart, brilliant actually; not a genius like his old man but the intuitive leaps he makes! God, I wish I had half of his god given talent. The things he can do - the things he'll accomplish; I hope I'm there to see them."

"I hope for that for you as well, Stark."

...

**August 17, 2009**

**San Francisco, California**

The last of his things were deposited on the single bed in the empty room and Harry sighed as he slumped onto the bare mattress beside them. Pepper and Obadiah were watching him with unrestrained concern and worry. Happy and Lawrence, Uncle Obi's driver and bodyguard, were standing rigidly against the wall on either side of the open door. Forcing a half-smile onto his face he looked up at his Aunt and Uncle. "I'm not going to break, you know."

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Pepper asked motherly, walking the short distance to him and kneeling on the carpet in front of him. "You don't have to do this. We can arrange homeschooling for you back in LA. Obadiah said you could stay will him as long as you like."

"I know," Harry smiled at the woman and leaned in, kissing her softly on her forehead. "But I need to move on, Aunty P. It's been almost four months. Uncle Obi is right. We need to be realistic about this and get on with life."

She sniffed, a sad and proud smile of her own turning her lips, and nodded as she rose to her feet. She let Obadiah take the spot beside the teenage.

"You'll call me," the man said with a light grin of his own, hugging Harry tight.

"Every day." Harry returned the embrace whole-heartedly. "To be honest, it'll be good to get back to normal - or normalish, anyway."

"Just remember," Obadiah released the hug and cupped Harry at the back of his neck, "I have one of the company helicopters fueled and waiting at all times for you. If, at any time, you change your mind about being here you just call me and I'll have Happy or Lawrence here in less than an hour to bring you home."

Harry spared a glance at the two burly men standing outside his room. Happy just nodded briskly, though his eyes were nothing but affectionate. Lawrence was a rugged looking man in mid-thirties with a perpetual five-o'clock shadow that Harry had gotten to know after months at Uncle Obi's place. He had been more than happy to teach Harry some street fighting he'd picked up in the Marines. Despite his stern exterior they got along fairly well. He wouldn't be family - not like Happy - but he was definitely a friend. Though that friend's current attempt at a serious scowl was thwarted by the playful wink he tossed Harry's way.

Smirking at both bodyguards, Harry asked Obadiah, "Should we make them arm wrestle to see who gets to come get me?"

The two men in question flicked their eyes to the other while Obadiah just chortled with amusement. "Now Harry, no teasing the men who could break you with their pinky finger."

"Mr. Stark?" Madam Racine's accented alto sounded from the doorway and the quintet inside the room glanced over at her arrival. The Creole woman was accompanied by dark haired man standing about 6'2". He was thick at the shoulder and solidly built, if the muscles visible beneath his white golf-shirt were to be believed. "I wanted to introduce you to Dan Filch; he's the new Non-Magical Defense instructor."

The man, dark eyes hard like steel, stepped into the room and extended his hand to the teenager. "I was sorry to hear about your father, Mr. Stark."

"Harry," the boy shook the hand. "This is my Aunty P, Pepper Potts, My Uncle, Obadiah Stane, and the two gargoyle wannabes are bodyguards and friends, Happy Hogan and Lawrence Michaels."

"We'll need to talk about the new security measures, Madam Racine," Happy stated after shaking the new teacher's hand, "Before I head back to LA with Miss Potts."

"I'd like to get in on that conversation as well," Lawrence spoke up after a glance at Obadiah. "Mr. Hogan will not always be available to retrieve Harry. Those times it will fall to me to pick him up. Mr. Stane thought it would be a good idea for me to accompany them today so you would know me and what to expect should Happy be unavailable."

"Of course," the woman nodded to them both and gestured to the open door. "I assure you every precaution is being taken for Harry's continued safety here at the Academy. But why don't we make use of this floor's Dorm Parent's office? We'll go over everything to ensure it's to your satisfaction."

"I'm going to go with them as well, Harry," Obadiah got up off the bed, tugging the young man to his feet with him.

Harry and Obadiah exchanged another quick hug. "Remember, Harry: night or day, you need me you call me."

"Thanks Uncle Obi."

When they were gone, Harry turned to Mr. Filch. "Sir, I was studying several types of hand-to-hand combat independently with Mr. Piccarreta. Would you be willing to continue the extra classes he and I had every Wednesday and Saturday afternoon?"

"Combat?" The man regarded him speculatively for a moment, his face giving away exactly how lacking he found Harry to be. "You think a kid like you needs to know that kind of stuff?"

Pepper bristled at the implied insult, but then so did Harry. "I was kidnapped when I was nine years old, Mr. Filch. It nearly happened again two years ago but I was able to defend myself because of what I had learned from Mr. Piccarreta."

"I hear you're some magical prodigy, Stark," the man practically sneered. "You sure you didn't use some of your hocus-pocus?"

"No," Harry snapped, "I did not. The men who attempted it were Baselines and I was not about to expose my secret to them; not when I was more than capable to getting out of the situation without resorting to magic."

"If you're so capable, why do you want more instruction?"

"Mr. Filch!" Pepper exclaimed indignantly at the man's tone.

Placing a hand on the woman's shoulder, Harry staved off her tirade - even if he would have enjoyed watching the closest thing he had to a mother tear this asshole a new one. "Even if I were not a high profile target, in both societies, my father was kidnapped by terrorists several months ago - as you well know. There is some concern that said terrorists would attempt to get at me as leverage against him. Now, maybe I'm not seeing things from your point of view - then again I can't get my head that far up your ass - but you cannot honestly deny that there is a real need for me to know how to defend myself both magically and non."

Pepper and Dan were staring at the teenager incredulously. Pepper opened her mouth, most likely to scold him for his disrespectful tone, when Mr. Filch started to chuckle. His face softened and an amused smirk played on his lips. "Piccarreta was right about you, Kid; you got balls. You got a deal. Swing by the fitness studio later tonight after you get settled and you can show me what you know. We'll set up a training regime to start on Wednesday after your last class."

...

**Unknown Date**

**Unknown Location**

He wanted to punch the man.

He wanted to bring his hands down from behind his head and wrap his fingers around the bastard's throat and choke the life from him.

But with all the guns pointed at him, Tony could do nothing but stare blankly back at the man that was brushing aside Tony's shirt and running a finger over the reactor in his chest.

"The bow and arrow," the douche-bag intoned pompously, "once was the pinnacle of weapons technology. It allowed the great Genghis Khan to rule from the Pacific to the Ukraine. An empire twice the size of Alexander the Great and four times the size of the Roman Empire. But today, whoever holds the latest Stark weapons rules these lands. And soon it will be my turn."

The exchange between the man and Yinsen was bone chilling, even if Tony hadn't understood a word of it. He nearly leaped into action when the doctor was manhandled to his knees and his head tilted to the side on the anvil. When the ember from the fire was hovering near Yinsen's mouth he couldn't hold himself back anymore.

"What do you want, a delivery date?" When everyone looked at him he just shrugged. "I need him. Good assistant."

The man holding the tongs looked over at Tony before dropping it next to Yinsen's head. He approached Tony slowly; holding his hand out only to have it filled with several sheets of paper an instant later. He stopped directly in front of Tony, regarding him for a moment before slamming the papers against his chest and sending a bolt of pain through his torso at the jarring of the reactor.

Taking the papers from the man, Tony glanced down at them and nearly vomited.

Harry's soft smile was looking at something off to the side of the photograph. It had obviously been taken from a distance, but Tony recognized Obadiah's ring on the hand that rested on his son's shoulder. The second picture showed Harry on the San Francisco pier with several of his friends, Happy and a couple other adults standing in the background. The third was a close-up Harry and a blue and white haired girl sharing a rather heated kiss.

"You have 'till tomorrow," the leader of his captors crowed victoriously, "to assemble my missile."

...

**September 22, 2009**

**San Francisco, California**

The crowd blocking the inside of the Cafeteria was larger than he expected, as was the silence that filled the room. He pushed his way through the entranced students until he was at his normal table. It was only as he pulled out the chair between Drew and River did they realize he was even there.

"Vhy did you not tell us, Harry!" River exclaimed quietly, blue and white hair bouncing as she leaned in for a quick kiss before turning back to what had captured their attention.

"Tell you what?" Harry boggled and followed the stares of his friend. He froze and his heart jumped into his throat when he saw his father sitting before the press podium of Stark Industries with Obadiah crouching beside him.

_"...maybe he was every inch the man we all remember from the newsreels." _Tony stared grimly ahead, obviously not really seeing anything but what he was remembering. _"I saw young Americans killed by the very weapons I created to defend them and protect them. And I saw that I had become part of a system that is comfortable with zero accountability."_

The gathered reporters clamored for the billionaire's attention until Tony gave a little have grin and pointed to one. _"Hey, Ben."_

_"What happened over there?"_ the reporter off screen asked.

_"Uh, I-"_ Tony paused and got to his feet, making his way back behind the podium as he spoke. _"I had my eyes opened. I came to realize that I have more to offer this world than just making things that blow up. And that is why, effective immediately, I am shutting down the weapons manufacturing division until such a time as I can-"_

Much like the reporters at the press conference, the students and faculty in the cafeteria went nuts. Harry felt his friends' piercing gazes on him and little by little every other pair of eyes in the room sought him out. He wasn't there for them to find.

Bolting out of his chair so fast it clattered to the floor, he was pushing his way back out of the throng of bodies. Fighting back the angry tears he was fishing his cell phone from his pocket and dialing without conscious thought. It rang several times before it went to voice-mail. He hung up and was dialing again when he finally made his way out of the building and into the open air. He surged away from the building, away from the friends he knew were following him out, and only stopped when he was standing in the middle of the well manicured lawn away from everyone else.

_"Harry-"_

"Why didn't you tell me?" He demanded from the woman on the other end of call. "Fuck, Pepper, it's my father and you couldn't pick up the goddamn phone and tell me he was alive? That he had been found and was coming home? I had to find out from a goddamn fucking press conference!" He was shouting and he didn't care.

_"Harry, please! I-"_

"You what?!" He snarled, pressing the heel of his free hand into his eyes, ignoring the moisture he felt. "What can you possibly say that makes it okay to keep something like this from me?!" He felt a pair of soft arms encircle his waist and a pair of breasts press up against his back. He leaned into the smaller body behind him and tried not to crumble when warm lips pressed comfortingly against his shoulder.

_"You need to understand-"_

"No, I really don't," he moaned as the lump in his throat practically choked the words. "How long have you known? When did they tell you? This morning?"

_"Harry-"_

"Last night?" Her silence was all he needed and cringed at the betrayal he felt in his very soul. "You've known for more than twelve fucking hours and you didn't think me relevant enough to be told that my father was alive. Well fuck you too, Miss Potts."

The phone fell from his numb hand and hit the ground hard. He could hear Pepper's voice desperately calling his name but he didn't care. He was trembling in the hold River had on him and trying to understand the different emotions warring inside of him. Happiness, relief, anger, betrayal, it was all too much and only the half Water Naiad's calming presence was keeping his magic from reacting.

"You did not know," his girlfriend whispered against his neck.

He couldn't answer and barely managed to shake his head.

"River," Drew joined the pair, picking up Harry's discarded phone and disconnecting the call. "Let's take Harry over to the clinic, get him a calming potion."

...

**September 23, 2009**

**San Francisco, California**

His tongue felt like sandpaper, which was typical whenever he'd been dosed with a sleeping draught. If it had been a half dose, like Dr. Pharr had told him, he would have been awake before nightfall. Seeing as the sun was just starting to rise, Harry knew the physician had fudged the truth. Remembering the events of the previous day was enough to have him sighing and closing his eyes again.

"To good to say Good Morning?"

Jarring in surprise, Harry bolted into a sitting position on the bed and stared at the man sitting in the chair at his bedside. "Uncle Obi?"

The Executive Office of Stark Industries lifted himself out of his chair and enveloped Harry into a comforting embrace. "I called the school as soon as I could and they told me you had to be sedated after seeing the press conference. River and Drew were beside themselves with worry and only left you after I got here."

Anger flared through Harry but he didn't let go of his Uncle. "Why didn't you tell me?" He whispered.

"It wasn't my call, Kiddo." Obadiah squeezed him gently before letting go and settling on the bed beside him. "Rhodey called us the night before and I swear, the first thing I wanted to do was come get you so you could be there when your old man got off the plane. But Tony... he was afraid the media circus surround this entire situation would bring too much attention onto you if you were there."

"I'm not a kid anymore, Uncle Obi." Harry sighed and rubbed at his eyes wearily. "He doesn't have to protect me all the time, especially when he's the one who was kidnapped by terrorists and held captive for five months! I would have liked to hear from him - from anyone, actually - that he was alive before the press was told! Even if I had to stay here on campus, I needed to have been told."

Pursing his lips together, Obadiah nodded. "You're right; you shouldn't have had to find out the way you did."

Harry quirked a wry grin and looked at the man from the corner of his eye. "I'm right?"

Obadiah snorted and bumped the teenager with his shoulder. "Yeah, yeah; you were right. It's bound to happen at least once in your life."

With a chuckle, Harry sighed and leaned into the older man's side. "I need to see him, Uncle Obi."

"Not yet, Kiddo, but soon. I promise." Stane carded his fingers through Harry's hair. "He's got his head into something, something to do with what went on over there, but he's not divulging anything. Even Pepper can't get into the lab at the house right now."

Trying not to feel the hurt at that, Harry cleared his throat before speaking. "Can I stay with you for a couple days, then? Just in case he wants to see me, or something."

"I'm heading out to New York after I leave here, Harry." Obadiah told him, the regret evident in his voice. "But I've left Lawrence behind in LA. If that should happen, he'll be more than happy to pick you up and take you home."

"All right. So what do I do for now, Uncle Obi?

"Hold down the fort," Obadiah advised. "Focus on school, try not to think about the mess that is happening outside these wards, and in a few weeks when you're Dad's head is on straight again, we'll bring you home for a few weeks. Maybe that Russian beauty of yours can help keep you distracted for a while, all right?"

Chuckling, and taking the comfort the older man offered, Harry nodded. "All right. Thanks, Uncle Obi."

...

**October 07, 2009**

**San Francisco, California**

Two weeks and he still hadn't heard from his father.

Harry walked through the cool fall air, absently travelling the paths along the ward boundary next to the shoreline of the South Basin, with River tucked perfectly against his side. His arm was around her waist and she was humming softly with her head resting on his shoulder. She had been good for him, the last little while, just content to be around him and let him brood or vent when he needed to. As a Water Naiad, even half one, she was all too familiar with sudden and sometimes violent emotional changes. Much like water, unpredictable and untameable, she was just as volatile on a good day as he was on a bad. Right now, River was just what he needed.

He had tried not to think about things, as Uncle Obi had suggested, but the longer he went without hearing from anyone the harder it was becoming to stay focussed. He had been tempted several times in the last few days to just have someone make him a portkey back to Malibu and demand some answers from his father. From anyone, actually.

Rhodey wasn't talking to any Stark at the moment - though Harry couldn't blame him. As Liaison to the Stark family he was the one getting flak from the Air Force about Tony's sudden departure from the Arms Race. Pepper was running interference between Tony and everyone else, including Harry. She had been cool toward him, whenever they spoke no matter how briefly. He wanted to apologize to her, but he really was still angry. When she said sorry, so would he. As for Happy, the driver-come-bodyguard was as just in the dark as Harry was. He was ferrying Pepper around wherever she needed to go, but no one was telling him anything either.

Uncle Obi was the only one that talked to Harry on a regular basis, calling him at least every other day just to touch base and make sure he was handling things okay. Even Lawrence had popped by two nights ago to take him out into the city for supper, just to see how he was. Obadiah was still stuck in New York and would be for some weeks still but promised to stop in San Francisco on his way home to see his nephew before going on to Malibu.

"Kuda ti ushel?" River said quietly in Russian as they continued strolling through the campus grounds. "O chem ti dumaesh?" _**Where did you go? What are you thinking about?**_

Humming, Harry tilted his head and kissed her multifaceted blue hair. He responded in kind, attempting and most likely butchering the language she was trying to teach him. "YA vse yeshche zdes'." _**I'm still here.**_

He lifted the cigarette he had been holding between his fingers and drew slowly on the filter. It was a secret habit he had developed over the summer. Wallowing in despair, and constantly freaking out, he had snuck a few of Obadiah's cigars only to find he couldn't stand the taste or smell of them. But it soothed his nerves and he was able to function without his magic going haywire, so he had tried the old man's cigarettes. The taste and smell were milder and he was soon smoking a half a pack a day - at least. He had meant to quit when he started school, but the press conference had frazzled his control, and it wasn't like he could keep going to the Clinic for a calming draught. Besides, in the scheme of things, getting addicted to nicotine was the least of his problems.

"Ty slishkom mnogo dumaesh." She stopped their walking, turning in his arm and lifting her lithe body onto her toes, and pressed her lips against his. **_You think too much.**_

_(A/N: Thank you to Elim Garak for the proper Russian translation and for the others who also pointed out that I am crap as speaking/writing other languages.)_

Their mouths moved together and a light flick of her tongue had him parting his lips and darting his own tongue out to meet hers. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him along with her as she walked backward off the path and across the lawn. She backed herself up against a large tree and Harry automatically pressed his body up against hers. His free hand ran lightly up her side, mindful that the lit end of his cigarette was away from her body, coming to rest just beneath the curve of her breast. His thumb stroked the mound and she sighed against the kiss.

"Making out and smoking in public; is this how you've been passing the time while I've been away?"

Harry had frozen at the first word and drew away from River, eyes as wide as a deer caught in the headlights of a car. River exhaled with a puff of stolen smoke, slipping from between her stunned boyfriend and the tree when he didn't move right away. She looked past Harry and frowned at Tony Stark who stood cool and calm on the path.

He was breathing with silent pants and Harry continued to stare straight ahead. He felt River's delicate hand on his chest and he absently placed his own over top it. "Harry? Vould you vant me to stay?" She asked quietly in heavily accented English." He shook his head slowly, still unwilling to turn around just yet. She stretched onto her tiptoes again and kissed him lightly. "Come find me vhen you're done."

He was aware of her leaving, spitting a string of Russian at the Stark patriarch that brought the small crook of a smile for Harry's lips. After a minute he could no longer hear her footsteps and still he would not turn around.

"Are you that mad at me?"

It took everything he had not to break down right then and there. He cleared his throat, dropping the still smoldering cigarette from his fingers and stomping it into the ground. He swallowed the lump in his throat. "Maybe I should be asking you that? I've at least tried to call you. Several times. A day. For a couple of weeks."

"There was... something I needed to do first. But, it's almost done now and I... Will you look at me please?"

His hands were shaking and he fisted them at his side. He wanted to ignore it, to be angry and hurt and spiteful, but the all out begging he heard in his father's voice that had him struggling against the ever growing lump and slowly turning around.

Tony was pale and he had lost a great deal of weight. There were dark shadows under his eyes and they held a pain within them that Harry knew would never leave them. A soft smile on his lips, Tony took a couple of steps toward his son. "You've gotten taller."

Harry's throat closed up and tears were blurring his vision. He clenched them shut, backing away from Tony, only to have the man close the distance between them and gingerly take hold of Harry's arms to keep him from running.

"I wanted to see you, Hare-Bear; more than anything! But... I couldn't. There was something I had to fix first so I could do this."

Familiar arms were suddenly wrapped around him and Harry found himself dissolving into the long forgotten embrace of his father. A strangled sob escaped him as he let himself return the hug, hands fisting into the back of his father's jacket, and buried his face into the crook of the man's neck. "Oh god, you're really here..."

"I'm here, Son," Tony replied in a choked whisper. "I'm here."

It was several minutes before either one of them was willing to release his hold on the other, but soon they were making their way back to Harry's dorm room. Once inside, with the door closed and several privacy charms erected, Tony was standing a short distance from his son and undoing the top few buttons of his shirt.

"Holy shit," Harry muttered, seeing the glow he had noticed beneath the thin fabric brightly illuminating the room. He tentatively stretched out his hand, only to draw it back and slump onto the edge of his bed. "I felt it, when you were hugging me, but I... That's not just a new fashion statement, is it?"

Tony shook his head, buttoning his shirt before sitting beside Harry; so close that their arms and shoulders were touching. "It's what helped me escape. This is what kept me - is keeping me - alive. And what kept me from coming to you sooner."

He could feel the blood rushing from his face. "What?!"

Tony fidgeted with his hands in his lap before answering. "I was caught in an explosion when the convoy was attacked. There... a doctor that had been kidnapped by the same terrorists, he couldn't get all the shrapnel out and put a magnet in my chest to stop the metal shards from reaching my heart. It had been hooked up to a car battery. I was able to create a miniature arc reactor to power the magnet, but I didn't have enough of the special alloy to protect it."

"You needed to rebuild it when you got home just so you could be in the same room as me," Harry murmured, horrified that his mere presence could have killed his father. "This is what you were working on. Obadiah said you pretty much locked yourself up in the lab at home the minute you got back.

The older Stark nodded. "There's a little more to it than that, but I'm nearly done with the rest. It's this suit... well; you really need to see it to believe it. Actually, take my memory."

Harry blinked, stunned. "What?"

Tony gestured to Harry's desk. "I got you that Student's Pensieve last year for finals; so you could re-watch the memory of your lectures to help study. You can take my memory and see for yourself what I'm talking about. It'll save me the trouble of trying to explain it to you."

With a frown, Harry regarded his father warily. "You want to show me the memory of how you escaped?"

"Yes," Tony replied completely serious and not looking away from his son's penetrating gaze. "I haven't told anyone else about it yet. I wanted you to know first."

"Not even Uncle Obi?" Harry asked a little surprised.

"He knows about this," Tony admitted, tapping against his chest, "but nothing else. Other than you, Harry, I - I don't know who I can trust anymore. Maybe I am suffering from post traumatic stress like everyone says, maybe I'm just being paranoid, but I don't feel like I can tell anyone about any of this. Only you, Harry, like always. No secrets, remember?"

It wasn't hard, extracting the memory from his father's mind. Though, seeing the silvery fluid floating in the pensieve was more than a little daunting. He knew, logically, that it hadn't been a pleasant experience for his father. Hell, for anyone, being kidnapped by terrorists was bound to be nightmare inducing. It was only the fact that Tony had been so up front and willing to share some of his time as a captive that allowed Harry to find the courage he needed to delve into the memories.

It was frightening and heart-wrenching and when his father's armored body slammed into the desert sand Harry was more than happy to be ejected from the pensieve. He wasted no time in latching on to Tony and burying his face into the man's shoulder. For several long moments, father and son just sat silently together.

Though he couldn't see his father's face, Harry could practically hear the wheels grinding in Tony's head. "You're going to do something stupid, aren't you?"

Tony gasped, feigning offence. "I am a genius, my son; nothing I do is every stupid! Ill advised, maybe, but never stupid."

With a watery chuckle, Harry clung to the man tighter, basking in the moment that the world was as it was meant to be. "Just don't leave me like that again."

It was another full minute before Tony cleared his throat and was able to speak. "I should get back. I need a couple of days to finish getting things sorted out back home; then you can take a week off school and-" Tony kissed the top of Harry's. "Screw it. Think we'll get in trouble if I crashed here with you tonight?"

"I don't care," Harry mumbled into the man's shoulder.

"Yeah, me neither."

...

**October 22, 2009**

**Unknown Location**

"So this is how he did it."

Truly, it was a thing of beauty. But Obadiah had come to expect nothing less from the brilliance that was Tony Stark. It was such a shame that things had gone as they had. If he thought Tony would have been amendable to the way things had to be then Obadiah wouldn't have had to put the hit out on the boy that might of well have been his own son.

Of course, if Raza and his goons had done what they were suppose to and just killed the son-of-a-bitch he wouldn't be having this problem right now. The company would have gone to Harry and Obadiah would have had seven years to mould the young Wizard - though he doubted Harry would ever take over the company. He would have continued to let Obadiah run the Weapons conglomerate.

But, if Raza had succeeded in killing Tony, Obadiah would not have been given this gift. Such a wonderful, power changing, gift.

"This is only a first, crude effort." Raza declared, pulling Obadiah's attention momentarily away from the weapon. "Stark has perfected his design. He has made a masterpiece of death." The terrorist leader regarded Stane for a moment before he continued moving about the tent. "A man with a dozen of these can rule all of Asia. And you dream of Stark's throne." He had reached a chair and sat regally on its surface, as if he were already said ruler. "We have a common enemy. If we are still in business, I will give you these designs as a gift." A glass of tea had been poured and Raza offered it out to Obadiah. "And in turn, I hope you'll repay me with a gift of iron soldiers."

Forcing himself to smile, Obadiah closed the distance between them and clapped the man on the shoulder while taking the glass from his hand. Thumbing the device in his hand, he was rewarded when Raza stiffened suddenly and blood began flowing from his ear. Standing straight, he sighed. Really, he expected nothing less from the barbarian.

"Technology," he said to the immobile man. "It's always been your Achilles' heel in this part of the world." He removed the earplugs from his ear and sneered at Raza. "Don't worry; it'll only last for fifteen minutes." Walking past the man, he ran his hand over Raza's bald head. "That's the least of your problems."

Once back outside in the cool Afghanistan night, he was pleased to see his men had followed his instructions. The remaining members of the Ten Rings were on their knees, hands clasped behind their heads, cowering before the muzzles of the automated riffles his people held on them. It was a heartening sight.

"Crate up the armor and the rest of it." He instructed the mercenaries as he started back toward his awaiting SUV. "All right, let's finish up here." The rapid gunfire didn't give him pause and he climbed into the back of his vehicle.

A few minutes later they were driving back into the desert and away from the now burning remains of the terrorist encampment. He watched the darkness speeding past, his mind going over everything one last time. It was regrettable, what was about to happen, but he really had no choice. Taking his phone he dialed Lawrence back in California.

"Set up Sector 16 underneath the arc reactor," he told the man who masqueraded as his personal driver and bodyguard. "And I'm going to want this data masked. Recruit our top engineers; I want a prototype right away. And I think it's time to take out that insurance policy we discussed."

...

**October 23, 2009**

**San Francisco, California**

"No Happy again?"

Grinning at the disgruntled roll of Lawrence's eyes, Harry handed the man his backpack when he had reached for it. Uncle Obi's driver slash bodyguard huffed as he took the bag to the open back gate of the stretched SUV. "Don't blame me. Between Miss Potts and Mr. Stark, poor Happy' been run ragged."

Harry chuckled and glanced at the vehicle that was idling for him. "So, why the limo? The airfield with the copter isn't that far. A town car would have sufficed."

"We're doing one of the Board Member's a favor," Lawrence answered with a smile as he opened the back door. "He just bought this puppy and he needed it driven back to LA. His man's already in the driver's seat so you and I get to relax and break in the leather upholstery. Beside, the trip down will give Mr. Stane the chance to get your father out of his Lab."

"I thought Dad arranged for me to take next week off," Harry mentioned as he climbed into the back of the limo. He whistled his appreciation at the interior. Plush grey and black leather bench along the length of the vehicle; two decent sized LCD televisions framing the single large window opposite the bench with a well lit bar beneath it. "Nice!"

Lawrence gave him a gentle nudge to get him moving and Harry slid across the bench until he was sitting in the middle. Lawrence climbed in beside the teenager, sitting on the seat to his left, and closed the door. He banged three times on the roof and a moment later the limo was pulling away from the Baseline side of the C.A.S.S gates.

"Mr. Stane is the one who arranged it," the bodyguard answered to Harry's earlier statement as they headed out of the city. "He's worried about Mr. Stark and felt that he needed something to take his mind off whatever he's obsessing over this time. Mr. Stane also felt it was time for you to see your old man since you haven't seen him since before this whole mess began."

"I saw him just a week or so ago," Harry told him absently, reaching across the aisle to the bar and looking through the cabinets.

Lawrence smirked and shook his head. "It hasn't been stocked yet, Harry; and you're underage."

Tilting his head back to look at his friend, Harry returned the smirk. "Never stopped us before."

The man laughed and clapped Harry on the back. "So, you say you saw Mr. Stark a week ago?"

Harry nodded. "Something like that. He surprised me on campus last week. We ended up talking until the morning so he caught some sleep in my dorm while I went to class. Happy brought us some pizza for dinner that night than they headed back to Malibu. I figured Uncle Obi knew."

Lawrence shook his head with a faint frown. "So what did you two talk about?"

It was easy to remember what his Dad had said about trusting people. Slouching back in his seat, Harry crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged. "Nothing, really. He caught me having a smoke; so, gave me hell about that."

"I told you that was going to come back to bit you in the ass," Lawrence chuckled.

Harry snorted. "Yeah, well, just be grateful I didn't tell him who'd been keeping me stocked up." He outright laughed at the man's cringe. "Anyway, I had to promise him I'd quit which hasn't been hard with help from Dr. Pharr."

"Well good." Lawrence playfully slugged him on the arm. "I always felt guilty giving those things to you. What else did you talk about?"

Harry shrugged again. "He asked me about River and why I wasn't with Drew anymore. That was an awkward conversation."

"I can imagine," Lawrence was smirking again. "I can't imagine any father wants to hear that his son's relationships are purely about the physical gratification."

Arching an eyebrow at the man, Harry asked, "You do remember who my father is, right?"

"Okay so maybe I can imagine one father." Lawrence shook his head. "Damn! You've got it golden, Kiddo. My old man barely gave me the time of day let alone encouraged casual relationships like that. That reminds me..."

"I wouldn't exactly say he was encouraging it," Harry commented as he watched the man make his way to the heavily tinted window that separated the back from the driver. Lawrence knocked once and it rolled down. Words Harry was unable to hear were exchanged and Lawrence came back with a small box. When he sat in his spot to Harry's left, he held the box out to the teenager. "What is it?" Harry asked, taking it from his friend.

"Open it up and find out." Lawrence smiled widely, putting his arm across the back of the bench and behind Harry's head.

Sparing a curious glance at the man, Harry flipped the unmarked black box open only to gape at what he found inside. "Holy shit, is this an Omega?!"

Nodding, Lawrence pointed to the face of the black and chrome timepiece. "It's the same one that was worn in that James Bond movie you liked. As in the actual one that was worn by the actor. Obadiah met him his last jaunt out to New York and mentioned to him you were a big fan. Take a look inside."

Harry was grinning wildly as he stretched the expansion band and slid it onto his left wrist. He looked back into the box and took out the folded piece of paper. "For Harry," he read, "From Daniel Craig." He carefully put the paper back into the box and closed it, examining the watch that fit perfectly on his arm. "Holy shit! This is too awesome!"

Lawrence reached for the arm with his hand and gingerly took hold of Harry's wrist. "It looks good on you, Harry."

A wave of nausea suddenly surged through the teenager and he listed in his seat. "Whoa..." He inhaled sharply through his nose as a flicker of pain spread through his chest.

"You okay, Harry?" Lawrence asked, shifting in the seat beside him, though there was something off about his voice. Harder. Colder...

"Yeah, just... not feeli-_mmph_!" Adrenaline spiked through him as a damp cloth was suddenly pressed over his mouth and nose! His eyes opened wide, meeting his friend's emotionless eyes in the refection in the window, and his body jerked to get away. Lawrence's grip on his wrist tightened, causing the watch to dig painfully into his skin, and held him against the larger man's side.

The substance on the cloth stung his airways and, though he held his breath, he could already feel himself getting lightheaded. He reached for his magic, trying to push the man away from him, only to find he couldn't tap in to it! The pain in his chest seared inside him as he tried again and he was forced to stop. He fought against the man's hold, his legs thrashing as he tried to pull the hand away from his face. His feet crashed into the bar, shattering dozens of glasses as he struggled to free himself.

Finally forced to take a breath, the chemical burned his throat and his mind started to drift away. He was aware of his body relaxing and the fight leaving him.

"That's it, Harry," Lawrence crooned soothingly in his ear, "breathe in deeply; just relax, Kiddo."

His eyes drifting shut of their own accord, Harry felt his body go numb. The last he heard before he succumbed to the dark was Lawrence's voice.

"It'll all be over soon."


	5. I Am Iron Man, Part Two

**Chapter Five: I Am Iron Man, Part Two**

**October 23, 2009**

**Van Nuys, California**

He was anxious.

The hangar was dark and only the security lights illuminated the interior of the building that was part of their private airfield on the Van Nuys Airport. Obadiah was standing at the base of the gangplank that was attached to the opened doorway on the jet. He was scowling at the limo that pulled through the hangar doors of the Stark Industries' Aviation Department.

It had been a long time since he had felt this.

Uncertainty.

Regret.

He hadn't wanted to involve Harry. He had wanted to keep the youth, a boy he saw as his own, naive about the dark, underbelly of the world. For fifteen years, he and Tony had done everything they could to protect the boy. Obadiah had never felt more for a child than he did for Harry; not even for Tony as he had been growing up. There was just something about those green eyes, about how they looked right through you and laid you bare and drew you in. Was it any wonder that he loved the kid as if he were his own?

And now, Obadiah was going to hurt him in the worst possible way.

It was one thing for Tony to have died in Afghanistan; lost and forgotten and never found again. Except the infuriating little prick hadn't done any of that. No, he had come home and it had taken every bit of cunning on Obadiah's part to keep Tony and Harry apart. Luckily for him, Tony had been more obsessed with his little project than reconnecting with his son; much as he used to obsess over things before Harry became a part of their lives.

The limo came to a stop in front of him and Obadiah could only hope that the estrangement worked in his favor.

He stepped away from the plane as the driver's door opened and Bowen, one of the mercenary that worked for him, hurried around to open the passenger door. He then went to the back and retrieved the bag Obadiah recognized as Harry's. From inside the limo he could hear the sounds of a short struggle and the muffled cursing of a voice he knew all too well.

Lawrence backed out of the limo dragging a fighting Harry out a moment later. The teenager's hands were tied expertly behind his back, grey tape wrapped around his left wrist keeping the disguised Dampener against the boy's skin, and a thick strip of duct tape sealed his mouth shut. Neither one stopped the youngest Stark from trying to break away from the man. He did, however, come to a full out stop when his scared and angry green eyes landed on Obadiah. They went wide in hope first, and then narrowed in confusion when he made no attempt to help.

"Get him on board before he's seen," Obadiah ordered, trying not to feel the sting of the look of utter betrayal that flared in Harry's eyes. The boy was too shocked - too horrified - to resist as Lawrence guided him up the stairs.

Rubbing his hand over his mouth and beard, Obadiah sighed before turning to the mercenary that was waiting for his instructions. "Take the limo and get rid of it. Burn it. I want no evidence of it found. Be back here by morning."

"Yes, Mr. Stane." The man hesitated before speaking, handing the pack to Obadiah. "You should know, the kid says he saw Tony last week. They spent an entire night and the next day together."

"Shit!" Obadiah snarled. That changed everything. There were no secrets between the pair and he could only wonder what Tony had told his son. Turning his back on the goon, the Executive Officer stalked up the stairs and into the luxurious jet. He was entering the sitting area of the plane, dropping the pack on the floor to take with him when he left, just as Lawrence was manhandling Harry into one of the leather seats by the small table.

Harry watched Obadiah as he stepped slowly into the aircraft. Those intense eyes were burrowing into the older man like a knife and Obadiah wished he could erase the distress and trepidation he saw inside them. He was aware of Lawrence taking a couple of steps back as Obadiah approached the chair, but he kept his focus on Harry. He crouched in front of the bound teen, reached up, and placed a hand on his cheek - he tried to ignore the fact that Harry had flinched at his touch.

"I'm going to take this off," He told Harry calmly, pinching the edge of the tape between his thumb and forefinger. "There's no one else here that can hear you, but I would appreciate it if you didn't yell or scream. We need to talk, Kiddo; I need you to let me explain. Can you do that?"

Breathing heavily through his nose, Harry nodded after a moment. It was slow, careful, but the gag was peeled off his face and he was licking at his dry lips. He didn't speak right away, just stared at the man he had trusted, and when he did it was just one word. "Why?"

"Because I needed you out of harm's way." He answered bluntly. "I wanted you safe."

"You have a funny way of going about it," Harry sneered at him. "Was doing something to my Magic and drugging me and tying me up-" he jerked his bound hands for emphasis "- really necessary, _Uncle Obi_?"

He cringed at the venom in the boys voice as he spat the once endearment. "I had to make sure."

"Make sure of what?"

Obadiah sighed and got up off the floor, sitting in the other seat at the table. Situated directly across from Harry, the older man leaned forward with his hands clasped together on the table surface. "Things have gotten... complicated since your father came home, Kiddo. He's playing a very dangerous game and I had to make sure you weren't caught up in it."

"By kidnapping me," Harry hissed angrily. He stared hard at Obadiah and shook his head. "No. You're lying to me. You want something."

"Kiddo-"

"Don't call me that and don't lie to me, Stane!" The teenager growled in a fair impersonation of his father. "You don't do this to someone you want to keep safe. You really want that? Me out of Harm's way? Then you untie me, fix whatever it is you did to my Magic, and stay the fuck away from me."

With a frown, Obadiah leaned back in the chair. It was like he was seeing the boy for the first time. The way he spoke, with such righteous anger, he looked and acted and sounded so much like Tony had the other night outside the benefit that it was... disappointing. He had hoped to convince the boy that the things happening would be for his own good. Apparently that wasn't going to happen.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Harry." He responded coolly.

"And why the fuck not?!" The teenager yelled; fury and fear warring in his eyes. "What the fuck do you want with m-_mmph_?!"

Beneath the sound of his shouting, neither had heard the tearing sound that preceded the new piece of duct tape being pressed over Harry's mouth. Lawrence stood behind the boy, adhering the strip in place and ignoring the protest from their hostage.

And that's what Harry was now: leverage against Tony Stark.

Obadiah sighed and got up from the chair. He locked away the regret and sorrow at what he was doing and his face became void of all emotion when he looked at Harry. "I know you're angry, Kiddo, and I know you don't understand. But you will, someday; I promise you." Stepping up to the boy he caressed Harry's hair with a deep sigh. "It's really a shame that Raza didn't do his job he was paid to; it would have been better for everyone if Tony never made it out of Afghanistan alive."

Harry jerked his head away from his touch; his wide, expressive eyes giving away his devastation at Obadiah's confession.

Holding back another sigh, Obadiah turned to his associate and frowned when he saw the man's own expression. The doubt and regret was plain on Lawrence face and he was looking at Harry with open remorse. Obadiah looked over at the kid, ignoring the pain in his heart at seeing Harry with his eyes shut and a couple of tears tracking down his cheeks, then looked back at Lawrence. "Is this going to be a problem?"

The man shook his head and cleared his throat, his face going blank of all emotion almost immediately. "No, Sir, Mr. Stane."

"Good. Keep him secured," Obadiah told Lawrence as turned his back on Tony's son and started for the exit. "Being the weekend, you shouldn't have a problem with staff. It'll take me a day, two at most, to finalize thing. The plane is fueled and the flight plan is ready to be filed an hour before we're ready to depart. Your co-pilot should be back by morning and the two of you can trade off guard duty. Remind Bowen that Harry is not to be touched."

"I'll be fine with Harry," Lawrence told him. "Bowen can keep an eye on things outside."

"I'll leave it up to you. All goes well we'll be in the Marshall Islands by Monday morning."

Lawrence crossed his arms over his chest. "What about the prototype?"

"I'll take care of it." Obadiah glanced once more over at Harry and was pleased to find that the boy's desperate expression evoked nothing from him. Without another word he left. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day.

...

**October 24, 2009**

**Malibu, California**

He didn't hear her when she first came in. It was only when her heels, clicking on the concrete flooring, drew his attention that he looked away from the interior of his torn apart Suit. "Hey," he said to her a little hesitantly. Really, after what she saw last night it was only natural for him to be uneasy around her.

"You busy? You mind if I send you on an errand?" When she didn't respond, he continued. "I need you to go to my office and hack into the mainframe - you're going to retrieve all the recent shipping manifests." He looked around his work space and picked up the data-stick he had been looking for, handing it to her. "This is a lock chip; this'll get you in. It's probably under Executive Files. If not, they put it on a ghost drive; in which case you need to look for the lowest numeric heading."

"And what do you plan to do with this information if I bring it back here?" He didn't need to see the expression on her face to know she wasn't happy with his request.

Well, he wasn't happy either. "Same drill. They've been dealing under the table, and I'm going to stop them. I'm going to find my weapons and destroy them."

"Tony..." She exhaled sharply as he turned away from her. "You know that I would help you with anything, but I cannot help you if you're going to start all of this again."

"There is nothing except this." He turned to her and closed the distance between them, his face unwavering in its intensity. "There's no art opening. There is no benefit! There is _nothing_ to sign! There is the next mission and nothing else!"

It was the wrong thing to say to her. Pepper pursed her lips and he could see the quivering of her jaw before she got it under control and spoke. "And what about Harry? Is he _nothing_ in the face of your new mission? Is that why you haven't, in the weeks you've been back, gone to see your own son?"

"I have seen him," Tony confessed. "And I've told him almost everything. About the Reactor, Afghanistan, the suit. He knows and he will accept that this is something that I have to make right."

"Is that so?" She challenged and tossed the Chip back onto the desk. "Well, then, I quit."

She was walking away when he found his voice again. "You stood by my side all these years while I reaped the benefits of destruction. And now that I'm trying to protect the people that I put in harm's way, you're going to walk out?"

"You're going to kill yourself, Tony!" She exclaimed. "You're going to orphan your son and I'm not going to be a part of it."

It was a low blow and she knew it, but it still knocked Tony back and he slumped into his chair. "I shouldn't be alive," he told her honestly, "unless it was for a reason. I'm not crazy, Pepper. I just finally know what I have to do. And I know in my heart that it's right."

She had taken a deep breath and was watching him carefully as she approached. She barely hesitated and picked up the chip. "You're all Harry and I have too, you know."

...

**October 24, 2009**

**Van Nuys, California**

Crusty eyes blinking, Harry woke slowly to the nightmare that didn't go away with consciousness. His body was stiff and sore, his shoulders aching from the way his arms were pinned unforgiving behind his back. At least he hadn't fallen off the sofa while he dozed. Lawrence had moved him there when he had first drifted off in the seat, and he was grateful he hadn't been forced to sleep in the chair. He shifted his body in to a sitting position and drew his guard's attention.

"Morning," Lawrence said from where he sat at the bar. He was peeling an orange from the fruit basket and set it aside when he saw Harry waking. The man reached behind the bar and lifted an unopened bottle of water from the stock. "You thirsty?"

Harry shook his head and looked away from the man that had been his friend. He would have been happy to look out the windows, but the shades had all been drawn. The only light in the room was from the emergency lights and what light filtered in from the open door at the front of the cabin. He continued to stare at the nearest covered window, purposely ignoring Lawrence when he heard the man walk across the carpet.

"Don't be stubborn, Harry," Lawrence coaxed, crouching down beside him. "It's been more than twelve hours since you've had anything to eat or drink. You should have some water."

Looking at him from the corner of his eyes, Harry didn't want to accept anything from him. But he had a point. He nodded once and tried to ignore the twist of his stomach when the other man smiled warmly at him.

"Same rules as last night, Kiddo," Lawrence told him as he reached for the edge of the tape gag. "Stay calm, no yelling or screaming, and we can keep this off for a while. Deal?"

Nodding again, Harry grimaced as the tape tugged painfully at the layers of skin while Lawrence pulled it free of his face. He waited without speaking as Lawrence cracked the seal of the bottle and opened it. The bodyguard took a decent drink from it, proving it wasn't tampered with, and pressed it to Harry's dry and cracking lips. When it was taken away, Harry watched as Lawrence stood - affording Harry a perfect view of the knife and gun now strapped to his belt - and went back to the bar.

"I need to take a piss," He told the man flatly. Lawrence frowned and seemed to hesitate. Harry rolled his eyes. "Seriously? I've been sitting here, like you said, for more than twelve hours. Trust me when I say you're lucky I'm still holding it."

Sighing, Lawrence took hold of his arm and helped him rise to his feet. He guided Harry to the lavatory near the cockpit. He opened the door and gave the teenage a light shove to move him into the small compartment. "The door stays open."

"You're going to hold my dick for me too?" Harry sneered back, looking over his shoulders at the cord binding his wrists.

Lawrence frowned but acquiesced. He effortlessly undid the knots and unwound the rope. Before Harry could move, however, he gripped his upper arms tight. "Don't try anything, Kiddo. I like you and really don't want to have to hurt you."

"I just need to pee," Harry assured him, trying not to wince at the bruising hold on his limbs.

Lawrence let him go and took a couple of steps back, standing like a sentry at the opened door.

Harry brought his arms around front and nearly sighed at the relief to his aching shoulders. He frowned curiously at the layers of tape wrapped around his left wrists. He reached for it only to stop when Lawrence pointedly cleared his throat. Glancing at the man, tried to keep from blushing as he went about his business.

After he had emptied his bladder, he zipped up his pants and made a point of washing his hands. Anything to delay going back into the cabin. "What happens now?" He asked quietly, not looking at the man while he ran his hands under the water. "After Uncle - after Stane is finished whatever he's doing; what happens to me?"

"There's nothing to worry about, Harry." Lawrence took a step forward motioning for Harry to come out of the Lavatory. "Let's just get you back in the chair again and we can talk, okay?"

"You mean tie me up again," Harry swallowed anxiously and turned off the water. He dried his hands off on a towel and rubbed at his wrists absently, his fingers trailing over the edge of the tape on his left and the bulge beneath it. "You don't have to do that, Lawrence."

"I know it's uncomfortable, Kiddo," he sounded sympathetic but it seemed contrived when still carrying the length of rope. "But it's only for a little while. If you keep behaving I won't have to tape your mouth shut. I can keep giving you water and even something to eat. All right?"

Harry hadn't moved while the man approached and Lawrence gently took him by the bicep, pulling him out of the bathroom. He started taking Harry back to the sitting area, passing by the open door of the plane, when the teenager made his move.

Bowling into Lawrence's side, he shoved the man hard which caused them both to stumble out the door and down the stairs of the gangplank to the concrete below. It hurt, and he knew he'd be sporting some colorful bruises in a few hours, but Harry managed to control the fall enough to land on top of Lawrence. The other man was breathless and Harry satisfied himself with digging his knee into the man's man groin as he pushed himself up. Without pausing to regain his breath, he kicked his former friend in the side of the head and ran.

"Bowen!"

He ducked underneath the plane as he heard Lawrence gasped yell -apparently he hadn't kicked hard enough - and bolted for the open hanger door. His fingers were tearing at the tape on his wrist as he ran. He could feel the watch he had been given pressing into his skin beneath the tape and it wasn't hard to figure out that he had lost the connection to his Magic less than a minute after putting on the watch. So focused was he on removing the tape he hadn't realized someone coming up fast behind him.

Just as he reached the doors, arms suddenly snaked around his chest and Harry cried out as he was born to the ground. He fought against the hold on him but the unknown man proved stronger. It was the driver from the night before and the man, Bowen, bodily lifted him off the ground, one arm carrying him around the waist and keeping his feet from touching the ground.

"Help!" Harry managed to bellow before Bowen clamped his free hand over his mouth.

Struggling for everything he had, Harry managed a few kicks to the goon's shins as he was dragged back to the plane. Lawrence was standing at the base of the stairway, pressing his hand against the side of his head where a stream of blood stained his face. He was glaring at Harry as Bowen carried him back into the jet.

The arms released him but before he could move the goon had spun him around. "Stupid move, kid." The fist was flying before Harry knew it and he was suddenly laid out on the floor.

His head was ringing from the unexpected blow and his jaw was a mass of pain. Stunned from the punch, he was unable to offer any resistance as he was dragged across the floor. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the cobwebs, as he was lifted into a sitting position and his back pressed up against a slender pole. His arms were angrily pulled behind his back and around the dancer's pole, and the rope was once more twisted and wrapped around his wrists. He cried out at the pain when the rope was cinched so tight that it cut into the skin of his right wrist, the left protected by the layers of tape.

"Lawrence would have made it easy for you," Bowen snarled as he knotted the rope. He stalked over to the bar and retrieved the roll of duct tape. He crouched in front of the still dazed Harry and wrapped several layers of the adhesive around his ankles and again at his knees. "He wanted to make you comfortable. Snacks, water; fuck, he would have let you out of your restraints every so often if you were a good little boy. But you had to be stupid."

"Lawrence," Harry mumbled as his head finally began to clear and he saw his former friend standing a distance away and just watching the pair.

"Shut up, you little shit." Bowen spat viciously as he tore off a piece of duct tape and slapped it over Harry's mouth.

Tears prickled at the corner of his eyes and Harry squeezed them shut, hoping that they hadn't been noticed. He heard the man move away from him and the room wet unnervingly quiet. When he was sure he had fought the tears back, he opened his eyes again and saw Lawrence slumped in one of the leather chairs, a cloth pressed against the side of his head, and scowling at the wall.

Breathing heavily through his nose, trying to calm his racing heart, Harry tested the bindings on his wrists. He grimaced at the pain of the rope rubbing against the bare skin. He kept trying. Twisting and tugging and moving his wrists every which way until he was whimpering with every sharp pain. He gritted his teeth when he felt a trickle of blood ooze out from beneath the ropes.

"Ah shit, Kiddo! Bowen, you tied him too tight!"

Scared and helpless, Harry couldn't stop himself from crying out in fear when Lawrence's hand suddenly landed on his shoulder. Harry struggled as best as he could, cursing and crying behind the tape gag, wanting nothing more than to get away from the man's touch. The tears were once more pooling in his eyes but he didn't care.

"Hey," Lawrence crouched down next to him again, "Hey, easy does it, Harry! I'm not going to hurt you." Seeing his distress, the man placed a hand on top of Harry's head and began to stroke his hair in an attempt at comfort. "You made him do it, Harry. You shouldn't have tried to get away. If you stop fighting, maybe in a little while I'll loosen the ropes a bit. All right."

Harry slumped against the pole and drew his bound legs up to his chest, letting his head fall forward until it was resting on his knees. The tears slid from his eyes as he closed them to the world. His entire body was shaking with the near silent sobs, the tape over his mouth muffling the rest.

Lawrence ran his hand over Harry's hair once more, checked the rope at his wrists, before going back to his seat.

Harry was left alone with the realization that he wasn't getting out of here.

...

**October 24, 2009**

**Malibu, California**

"Breathe..."

The pain coursing through his head was unlike anything he had ever felt before. Tony could feel something burning in his ear and was vaguely aware of the warmth trickling from the lobes. Hands, on his shoulder and neck, guided his unresponsive body back into the sofa.

"Easy," the familiar voice crooned from behind him, "easy. You remember this one, right?"

The small black device entered his field of vision and Tony's heart plummeted into the pit of his stomach as Obadiah toyed with the cylinder between his fingers. "It's a shame the government didn't approve it. There's so many applications for causing short-term paralysis."

There was movement from behind him and a moment later a strong hand was gripping his chin and turning his head to face his attacker. Obadiah Stane smiled softly as he removed the earplugs from his ears. "When I, uh, ordered the hit on you-"

Everything suddenly started falling into place for the genius whose mind was whirling away despite the rest of his body being completely motionless.

"-I worried that I was killing golden goose."

The clawed device now in Obadiah's hand had Tony's eyes wide but he was helpless against the man he had trusted for most of his life. When it was pressed into the casing of the Arc Reactor in his chest, the pain didn't register right away. Only when the metal heated and seared the flesh around it did he wish his voice would work so he could scream.

"But, you see, it was fate that you survived." His heart was racing inside his chest and a moment later, the reactor was yanked out of his body. The glow of the only thing keeping him alive illuminated the immediate area. "You have one last golden egg to give."

Smug with satisfaction, Obadiah leaned in to Tony's space and sneered as he spoke. "Do you really think, that just because you have an idea, that it belongs to you? Your father helped give us the atomic bomb. Now what kind of world would it be today if he was as selfish as you?"

With one final tug the wires, connecting to the only thing keeping Tony alive, were vindictively pulled from his chest. His heart seized and his lungs found it difficult to breathe properly. The paralysed man could only watch as his long-time partner admired the reactor, as if teasing Tony with it.

"It's beautiful. Oh Tony," Obadiah set aside the clawed tool and positioned himself on the sofa beside the other man, his arm around his shoulder in a parody of affection. "This is your Ninth Symphony. What a masterpiece. Look at that. This is your legacy: a new generation of weapons with this at its heart. Weapons that will help steer the world back on course, put the balance of power in our hands. The right hands."

Shifted on the sofa, Obadiah retrieved a case and placed the rector inside the padded interior. "I wish you could see my prototype," he told the helpless inventor with no small amount of amusement. "It's not as... well, not as conservative as yours."

The case closed and the light went dark. Tony was struggling against the paralysis, frantic to be able to move to stop the man from leaving with the reactor. But it was his next words that had him praying for any god listening to help him.

"Too bad you had to involve Pepper in this." Obadiah honestly sounded regretful. "I would have preferred that she lived. Now, Harry will lose you both. Oh, don't worry, Tony; I've made sure that Harry is safe and away from all of this."

Tony's already wildly beating heart stuttered at the mention of Harry.

"I had thought to ransom him back to you," the man admitted with a casual shrug. "The plans for the miniaturized reactor in exchange for your only son. But then I thought: why can't I have both? The profit and technology that could be had with access to Harry's power and, through him, that society... really I couldn't pass it up."

He patted Tony's leg as he got up. "He may be angry with me right now, but he'll come to understand one day. I'll take care of him for you Tony; protect him. I always have."

As the man walked away, never looking back, Tony's soul was screaming. The bastard had done something to his son!

It was that thought that had him breaking through the paralysis and his body twitched in response. It took several precious minutes to get off the sofa and to the elevator down to the lab. It was excruciatingly slow, and the only think of was that Harry needed him. Tony needed to get to Stane and find out what he had done, and then the son-of-a-bitch was going to pay.

Staggering out of the elevator he crumbled to the floor. His heart was failing and he had no time left. Crawling across the concrete floor, the thought of Harry scared or in pain was the only thing that kept him from giving in to his own pain and fear. He could feel himself fading as he finally reached his destination, the table of equipment with the decorative display Pepper had made out of his Mark One reactor.

He just hadn't counted on his mind being stronger than his body. As he reached for his last hope, his arms gave out beneath him and he hit the floor again. He had nothing left. Black was overtaking his vision and his breathing was slowing. He was going to die on the floor of his workshop and Harry...

The whine of Dum-E's hydraulics sounded near him and a second later the case he had been trying for was lowered into his line of sight. He looked over at the robotic arm and managed to take hold of the glass box. If he was capable of it, he would have smiled. "Good boy."

Desperation gave him the strength to smash the box against the floor and after some careful manoeuvring the reactor was plugged in to his chest. With agonizingly slowness, his heart stabilized and his breathing evened out. He was aware of someone shouting his name repeatedly somewhere in the mansion but he was concentrating on getting his body to respond to him again.

He was finally gaining coherency when he hear Rhodey bellow his name and rush across the workshop to his side. The Colonel rolled him over and Tony grabbed on to him frantically. "Where's Harry?"

Rhodey looked at him with a mix of concern and confusion. "Harry? He's at school-"

Tony shook his head and tried to get to his feet. "Obadiah-"

"Pepper is on her way with five agents to arrest him." Rhodey told him, helping him up.

He had to reign in his fear and worry for his son when he realized that Pepper and the agents would be decimated by any suit that Obadiah had created. And with the Mark Two chest piece he would be a force to be reckoned with. "That's not going to be enough."

...

**October 24, 2009**

**Van Nuys, California**

"Turn on the television; KNKV."

Bowen stalked up the stairs and into the sitting area of the jet, jolting the two silent occupants out of their thoughts. Harry quickly shifted his arms, hoping to keep the fact he'd nearly freed his one arm hidden a little longer. Lawrence frowned at the mercenary's grim countenance but stood from his seat, passing Harry by without a glance at the boy. Twisting his head so he could see, Harry watched as his former friend fiddled with the controls a moment before the large screen on the wall flared to life.

The picture showed an aerial shot of Stark Industries, a half dozen fire engines surrounding the Arc Reactor building that as billowing black smoke high into the Los Angeles air. On the freeway alongside the Stark Industries' campus, several smouldering vehicles were being cordoned off by emergency vehicles. Harry's eyes went wide at the sight and his breathing increased with his rapidly beating heart.

_"... live from the Howard Stark Memorial Parkway in Long Beach. As you can see, traffic is at a complete stand still after what some are saying was a battle royal between two giant robots. We're waiting for confirmation but this amateur video-"_ the image changed showing a large dark grey humanoid machine batting around a smaller red and gold robot-like shape and slamming it into the side of a Hydrogen Bus as if it were tissue paper _"-definitely brings into question exactly what sort of testing is going on at Stark Industries and is it safe for the people of Los Angeles. Officials have yet to-"_

Lawrence was scowling as he muted the television and shared a look with Bowen. "That was the prototype."

Bowen nodded. "Apparently Stark wasn't as 'dealt with' as the old man claimed when he checked in an hour ago."

Harry snapped his head around to the mercenary but neither man was paying him any attention. He had recognized the design of both 'robots' as based off what his father had built to escape Afghanistan. He didn't doubt that one of them - mostly likely the smaller one; Tony was all about style not size - was his father's suit. The other... it sounded like Obadiah had made one of his own.

Lawrence stormed passed him again, and motioned to Bowen to follow. They stood just inside the cockpit with the doors separating the sections of the plane open so they could still keep an eye on their captive. Harry watched them warily, not liking the expressions on either of their faces as they conversed in low voices.

Carefully, so as not to give away his movements, Harry went back to working at the ropes on his wrists. He could feel the bloody mess that he had already made of his right arm but he was nearly free; the loops of rope were already sliding down his hand. Gritting his teeth against the burning pain, and contorting his arms as much as he could around the pole he was tied to without moving the rest of his body, he could feel the warmth of his own blood coating the rope and dripping from his fingers. But then he felt the ropes fall away from his wrist.

It took everything he had not to crow with victory, not with his two guards standing right there. And giving away that he was loose would just be begging for a beating - or worse. Instead, watching them closely, he started pulling the tape wrapped around his left wrist. If he could get it, and the watch off...

As he observed the men, Harry felt the wariness grow into fear. Bowen was gesturing wildly and had pointed at Harry. Lawrence shook his head at whatever the man said but his response was hesitant. Bowen seemed insistent and Lawrence seemed to be caving. He looked over at Harry and the teenager could see the resignation in his former friend's face. The man glanced at his watch before nodding.

Bowen seemed satisfied and disembarked the plane, but not before glaring at the bound teen. Lawrence sighed before coming back into the sitting area. Harry froze as the man approached but the motion hadn't gone unnoticed.

Frowning, Lawrence crouched down beside Harry and glanced behind the pole. Harry moved quickly, bringing his right arm around the front and trying to punch the man, but Lawrence was ready for him. He grabbed the arm near the elbow, twisting it to the side, and caught the left as easily a second later. He looked at the raw and bloody limp with a shake of his head. "You've really made a mess of yourself there, Kiddo."

Harry's struggles were halted when Lawrence drew his gun and thumbed the safety off. The teenager's eyes were wide with Horror when it was pointed at his head. "Don't move, don't make a sound, or Bowen's going to come back in here and I'll be forced to pull the trigger."

Shaking with fear, Harry complied when the hold on him relented. Keeping the weapon aimed at him, Lawrence got the role of duct tape from the bar and couched behind his terrified hostage. He flinched when his arms were pulled back behind him again and hissed in through his nose when the adhesive was once more wrapped around his wrists. The bloodied abrasions on his arm burned as he was once more bound. He didn't move as several passes of the tape were wound around his chest, shoulders, and the pole for good measure.

Tossing the tape aside, Lawrence sat on the floor next to Harry. He picked up the blood soaked rope and inspected it for a moment before chucking it after the tape. "You've got to stop fighting, Kiddo." He nodded his head to the television that was silently playing live video from the scene at Stark Industries. "Bowen's of a mind that Mr. Stane's not coming back. He says that you're a liability now."

Turning his head sharply to the side, Harry stared with terrifying understanding at what his former friend was implying. Without Stane, neither man had any clout with his father. Even with Harry in their grasps, Tony would tear them apart.

Correctly reading the fear in his eyes, Lawrence let a hand rest on Harry's lower leg in a show of reassurance. "We're going to wait until morning. If we don't hear from Stane by then we're going to go through with the plan. It may have changed somewhat, but it's still a good one. We'll be flying to Honolulu. While we're refueling we'll lock you inside one of the sheds on the airfield. Once we're airborne again we'll notify the tower of where you are. We're going to fly on to another set of islands where there is no extradition agreement with the US. You'll never see either one of us again. It's going to be all right, Kiddo; I promise you."

As the man got up and walked away, heading behind the bar and pouring himself a stiff drink, Harry wanted to believe him. But the expression on Bowen's face when he looked at Harry had not been promising.

He wouldn't put it past the mercenary to toss him out the door at thirty thousand feet.

...

**October 25, 2009**

**Malibu, California**

He hadn't expected to regain consciousness.

The explosion that had rocked the Stark Industries compound was large enough to total the ark reactor, but hadn't been strong enough to bring the entire building down. For that Tony was gratefully, seeing as he had been cataleptic and immobile on its roof.

Still, with the knowledge that his chest reactor had been drained even before he finished the fight with Obadiah, he really hadn't expected to ever wake again. So, opening his eyes to a tear faced Pepper was a relief to both of them. That was until he asked the one question he desperately needed the answer for.

"Where's Harry?"

That had been nine hours ago and still there was no sign of his son. In the first few hours he had reconstructed his Mach 2 chest piece, while J.A.R.V.I.S was fabricating a new suit (it was faster than trying to repair the first one), and was running at full power when Rhodey showed up to tell them that the search of Obadiah's properties had turned up no new leads.

"We found some of Harry's things," the Colonel had said, handing Tony a backpack of his son's school things; including his wand. "Madam Racine and Dan Filch are checking things out at their end in San Francisco. Obadiah's driver, Lawrence, picked up Harry immediately after his last class Friday afternoon. He'd done it frequently since Harry returned to school in August and was on the approved removal list."

"Who's Lawrence?" Tony demanded as he paced in front of the mansion windows.

"A new hire of Obadiah's," Pepper told him morosely. "He started working as a driver and bodyguard shortly after you were kidnapped. Harry was staying with Obadiah and... Lawrence and he became friends. Harry wouldn't have suspected anything if either told him they were picking him up from school."

"I had arranged it so only Happy was able to get Harry from school without you or me with him, Pep." Tony grumbled.

"With you missing, Obadiah was granted guardianship," Rhodey explained to the father. "He had all the same parental authority as you did and we couldn't do anything about it - not that we even thought for a minute that..."

None of them had ever imagined that the man they had all trusted and counted as family would have concocted any of this. From the contract on Tony's life to kidnapping Harry, it didn't make any sense. Though, the more they learned of how twisted and illegal Stane's dealing has been - and how long it had been going on - the more they realized they had never known the man.

"Where would Obadiah take him?" Pepper asked, hugging herself, her worry for Harry plain on her face. "He wouldn't – I mean, he loved Harry as much as any of us, he wouldn't – he couldn't!"

"He loved me too, once," Tony huffed as he continued his pacing. "And yet he hired someone to kill me and when that didn't work he tried to do it himself! He kidnapped my son! He was going to hurt you too, Pep, so no... I don't know that he wouldn't hurt Harry!"

"He told you he would take care of him; that he wanted to use Harry and his magic as much as Obadiah's used you and your weapons," Rhodey told them. "So, where would he take Harry?"

"He'd want to keep him near," Tony muttered, scowling at the thought of the man that, even dead, was still trying to hurt his family.

Rhodey shook his head. "We cleared Sector 16 when we got the agents out. There was no one else there and we searched every nook and cranny when we learned the bastard had taken Harry."

"Barring that he'd leave him with someone he trusted." Tony stopped his pacing. "Lawrence. Stane trusted him to get Harry in the first place."

"We've rounded up most of Stane's people," Rhodey informed them. "There's maybe a half dozen or so that had gone to ground by the time we went looking - Lawrence Michaels is one of them. We're running background checks on them but it's going to take time to find them all. In the mean time, we've looked everywhere connected to Stane. The penthouse, the beach house, the yacht, the apartment in San Francisco, a warehouse in Torrance, a storage unit in Santa Monica - there's no sign that Harry was in any of those places other than the backpack we found in the penthouse."

"No," Tony shook his head."No, he'd have made plans for his escape. Stane was going to murder me and Pepper and when Harry wasn't returned to school he'd have you breathing down his neck. He'd want to be long gone, especially if he had Harry against his will. J.A.R.V.I.S.?"

**Already searching, Sir... There was a flight plan filed out of the Stark Industries' Aviation Department in Van Nuys just ten minutes ago. It was filed with Mr. Stane's authorization and, given that his demise has not been made public, it has been accepted. The Stark Executive Jet is slated to depart for Honolulu in forty-five minutes.**

Everyone moved at once.

Rhodey was one the phone, calling it in and working to get the plan grounded. Pepper, dialing Agent Coulson, was right behind Happy who eagerly exclaimed, "I can get us there in twenty-five!"

Tony pushed past them all and headed for the stairs down into his lab. "I'll meet you there."

...

**October 25, 2009**

**Van Nuys, California**

When the jet's engines has powered up, Harry started to panic.

He fought against his bindings to no avail. He could hear the airport ground staff moving about outside the plane and tried to get their attention. His shouts against the gag were loud in the interior of the jet but Bowen put an end to his desperate cries with a solid backhand to the side of his face.

Tears stung his eyes as his head snapped to the side. He took a moment to compose himself and looked up just in time to watch the mercenary shut and seal the plane door. Smirking smugly at the captive, Bowen sauntered back to stand in front of the bound teen.

Harry jerked against the pole when the man drew the bowie knife from next to the revolver on his belt and crouched down to Harry's level. He forced himself to hold still as the point of the blade came to rest just beneath his eyes. "Our friend Larry," the man began, scraping the knife down the side of Harry's face and leaving a raised scratch in its wake, "is of the opinion that you're valuable to us alive. Stane had the same opinion. But me..."

Panting through his nose, Harry was forced to tilt his head backward when the razor's edge of the knife suddenly trailed across his jaw line and stopped over the rapidly pulsing artery on the side of his neck.

"I know what goes on at that school of yours," Bowen snarled with a disgusted sneer. "I can see enough to see the perversion of it all; it goes against God's laws. Magic and Muties and other freaks like you have no business contaminating the rest of the world with your unnaturalness."

He couldn't contain the whimper that escaped him when the blade pressed into the skin of his throat and squeezed his eyes shut when he felt the blood begin to seep from beneath to cool metal.

"Hey!" Lawrence's voice suddenly yelled and Bowen was yanked away from the terrified youth.

Eyes snapping open, Harry watched as Lawrence laid Bowen out with a solid punch to the chin. The mercenary hit the cabin floor, eyes dazed and wide, and Lawrence readily relieved the man of his knife. Tucking it into his own possession the man glowered down at Bowen. "Touch him again and I'll kill you. Got it?"

Bowen hefted himself onto his elbows and returned the glare. "You know what he is-"

"He's a kid!" Lawrence hissed. "He's a goddamn kid who's caught up in this mess just because of who his daddy is! If I didn't want to stay out of prison so bad, I'd toss your ass off this plane and say to hell with it! But I need you to fly this goddamn plane with me and you need me. So just leave him the fuck alone and we won't have any problems. Am I clear?"

Bowen glared at Harry before spitting at Lawrence's feet. "Crystal."

He surged off the floor and made his way back into the cockpit. When the door closed behind the mercenary, Lawrence's body relaxed and he turned his attention to Harry. Frantically trying to catch his breath, Harry watched the man approach him and crouched down. Calloused fingers prodded at the cut on his throat and his winced at the sharp pain it caused.

"Shit," Lawrence muttered before grabbing a cloth napkin from the bar. He held it against the cut and met Harry's eyes. "Things are going to get bad," he whispered to the teenager. "The tower says there's a delay in our departure time due to a malfunction with one of the radars. I call bullshit."

Unable to answer, Harry just narrowed his eyes to show his confusion.

Lawrence lifted the cloth, checking the flow of blood, and pressed down on the wound again. "I won't go to prison, Harry. Kidnapping you is the least of the things I've done and California has the death penalty." Checking under the cloth, and satisfied with the state of the cut, Lawrence tossed the cloth back onto the bar and sighed.

Exhaustion showing in every line of his face, the man rubbed at the stubble on his chin. "Chances are we'll have to make a forced take off. The Air Force will pursue, but your Dad and Colonel Rhodes won't let them fire on us with you aboard. It's a risk, going on to Honolulu, but we'll need to refuel. I know I said we'd leave you there, but I need the guarantee that they'll let us airborne again. From there we could go one of two ways: One, once we're at cruising altitude we could let you dive with one of the emergency chutes. They'd be able to pick you up from the water."

Harry's eyes were wide with horror at the idea and shook his head frenetically.

Lawrence snorted and gave him a small smile. "Yeah, that's what I figured you'd say. Then, most likely, you'll stay on board until we get to the Marshall Islands. With no extradition, I'd be safe to make arrangements with Stark to come get you. I'd be long gone by the time he arrived so I'd have nothing to fear from him."

Yeah, Harry kind of doubted that. Tony Stark was one to hold a grudge, especially when it came to people who hurt his family. Harry especially.

"Come on," Lawrence moved behind him and Harry felt the restraints on his wrists suddenly cut. The knife sliced through the tape around his upper torso and he was hefted to his feet. "Let's get you into a proper chair and seat-belted in. The take off is going to be rough."

The tape on his legs was kept in place and he was carried over to a chair at the table. Lawrence wrapped more duct tape around his wrists, once more crossed behind his back, before strapping the belt over Harry's lap. It was uncomfortable, but it wasn't like Harry could complain.

His former friend was just standing straight when Bowen calm storming out of the cockpit, his face red with fury. "They're grounding all flights!"

Lawrence shifted himself to stand protectively between Harry and the enraged mercenary. "I know."

Bowen sneered and took a menacing step toward the other man. "You know? And were you going to share that information with me?"

"We can take off without their say so," Lawrence pointed out, meeting the approach. "They've already got the hangar doors open; we can taxi the plane out without the aircraft support tractor towing it. Once we're in the air we stick to the plan."

"The plan is shit now!" Bowen bellowed, causing Harry to flinch in his seat. "You really think Stark isn't going to have his Air Force buddies chase us down? There's no where we can go that that son-of-a-bitch won't hunt us down!"

"We negotiate," Lawrence responded, surprisingly calm. "Stark won't touch us so long as we have his son."

"We negotiate," Bowen jeered, turning a disgusted look in Harry's direction. "I think you've gotten soft, Michaels. There was time you would have gutted the freak and cut your losses."

"That's not happening this time." Lawrence snarled, once more shifting his body to block Harry from the mercenary's line of sight.

Unfortunately, the movement brought him too close to Bowen and the man had moved quicker than they had expected. He was able to grab the bowie knife from Lawrence's belt and plunge it into the bodyguard's abdomen. Lawrence's eyes went wide in surprise and pain, his hand automatically grabbing at Bowen's wrists and the handle of the knife in his belly. Harry cried out against the gag when Bowen shoved Lawrence away from him, the bloodied knife pulling from the body, as Lawrence hit the ground next to Harry's chair. Hands covering the wound on his stomach, Lawrence laid still.

With blood dripping from the blade, Bowen stepped to Lawrence's form and kicked him in the side, sending him rolling away until it came to a stop against the pole in the centre of the cabin. With a wicked leer, Bowen turned his attention to Harry.

The belt was cut away like it was nothing and the mercenary fisted his red soaked hand in Harry's shirt and heaved him from the seat. He was thrown to the floor, his shoulders colliding with one of the barstools before he hit the carpet. More scared than he had ever been before in his life, Harry's chest was heaving with every terrified breath.

Bowen was on top of him before he knew it. Spun so he was lying on his back, his bound hands trapped beneath his body, the maniac had straddled his waist and once more held the dagger at his throat. Tears blurred his vision and spilled down his cheeks when the tip of deadly blade forced his head back.

The sudden approaching roar of a low flying jet sounded outside the plane and Bowen turned instinctively.

Only to have the back of his head explode as the high velocity bullet pierced his skull an instant after it penetrated the plane's hull.

The dead man fell to the side with the momentum of the shot, toppling off of Harry and hitting the side of the bar, leaving the boy sobbing on the floor. Harry curled his body away from the grisly sight, drawing his knees up to his chest, listening as he heard the door of the plane being torn off its hinges.

"Harry!" His father's voice had a metallic quality to it as it was filtered through the speaker of his suit. "J.A.R.V.I.S.; emergency release!"

With a hiss of mechanic, the armored suit suddenly fell apart; pieces hitting the floor of the cabin in a cacophony of metal against metal. In a handful of seconds Tony was stepping over the pile of parts and rushing to Harry's side, pausing only to grab a small paring knife from the bar.

Kneeling beside Harry, he used the knife to slice through the tape binding the teenager's wrists behind his back. Before he could move on to the rest of the tape, Harry was spinning around and wrapping his arms around his father's waist. With his head resting on Tony's abdomen, the restraints still adhering to his skin, the boy clung desperately to Tony as he cried in relief. Tony curled around him, his arms cradling his son to him.

"It's over, Harry..."


	6. I Am Iron Man, Part Three

**Chapter Six: I Am Iron Man, Part Three**

**October 25, 2009**

**Malibu, California**

If there was a way he could have brought Stane back from the dead, he would have. Just so Tony would have had the privilege of killing the bastard himself. Slowly. And painfully.

_Very_ painfully.

What the man had done to Tony was bad enough. Putting a hit out on his life, embezzling tens of millions of dollars from the company, co-opting more than a quarter of the scientists and engineers and security staff of Stark Industries, trying to kill Tony himself when his terrorist assassins didn't do the job properly; for all that Tony was content to let the asshole rot in hell.

But what he had done to Harry was unforgivable and Hell was too good for him!

Even though it was barely noon, Tony found himself keeping a vigil at Harry's bedside. He wasn't alone, either. Pepper hadn't moved from the spot where she sat next to Harry's side, her fingers combing through his hair and watching the exhausted teenager sleep. Happy was standing beside the door, poised and ready to deal with anyone who dared get near their boy again.

Looking at him now, Harry looked like any other sleeping teenager; save the heavy white bandages on his right wrist. But a couple hours ago, before Dr. Pharr had tended to him... Finding his teenage son bound and gagged, bruised and bleeding, was something straight out of Tony's nightmares.

Tony breathed in slowly through his nose, looking down at the hands in his lap as he worked to calm himself.

It only got worse when the medic had began cutting away Harry's outer clothing for evidence. Covered in blood and layers of tape, the FBI and other government Agents had insisted on them being gathered. Tony couldn't have cared less why they wanted them, he just wanted to spare his son the ignominy of being stripped in front of complete strangers.

The sight of the varying bruising across his son's torso had him forgetting his objections.

Harry had stoically explained to them, and the listening Agent Coulson, exactly how he came to be a walking mass of black, purple and sickly green bruises. Tony had felt an incredible surge of pride when told of Harry's near escape, though the consequences of it were soon discovered when the medic carefully removed the adhesive tape from Harry's wrists.

The stuff had been covered with blood and the flesh of Harry's right wrist has been a mangled mess. Pieces of skin hung loose in a ghastly crimson pulp, and in some areas the musculature of the arm was visible. The left, while rubbed raw and possessing a few rough abrasions caused by the metal of the watchband, was in much better condition. The medic had used a special set of cutters to remove the watch without aggravating the boy's injuries.

The sudden release of his magic had Harry clutching at his chest and screaming like Tony had never heard before. Having invented the goddamn thing, Tony immediately recognized the after effects of one of the discarded prototypes for the Dampener. It had been rejected for this exact reason: the sudden, and always painful, resurgence of the test subject's core.

It had never been tested on someone with Harry's potential power levels.

Harry's heart-rate went haywire and he had gone into respiratory distress. Those few minutes it took for the medic to stabilize his son were some of the longest in Tony's life. Watching Harry unable to breath, the heart monitor alarm wailing inside the back of the ambulance, Tony felt like screaming at the universe for being so goddamn unfair to his child! Even when the heartbeat evened out and breathing became a little easier, the pain had driven Harry into unconsciousness.

Agent Coulson has stepped in then and told the medic that he was to make Harry comfortable and then he was to transport both Starks to which ever hospital or location he was told to. Tony wasted no time climbing into the back of the ambulance and telling the medics to take them back to Malibu. Or in telling Pepper to call Harry's school and have Dr. Pharr meet them back at the house.

The wizard was waiting at the front door when the Ambulance arrived; along with Madam Racine and Dan Filch. Harry, who had yet to regain consciousness, was wheeled into his room and transferred from the gurney to the bed. Happy and Pepper arrived just as the paramedics were leaving; Rhodey had decided to remain behind at the hangar to oversee things.

An in-depth, magical scan was performed on Harry and Dr. Pharr was quick to reassure Tony that everything was fine with Harry's heart and lungs. The initial backlash of magic had caused a sudden cardiac arrest but once his core had stabilized his body had followed. The scan had also revealed a comprehensive list of ailments caused by his time captive; all of which were easily treated by the magical physician.

A small dosage of sedative was spelled into Harry's system, allowing the Doctor to work quickly and methodically. An application of salve had eased the light to moderate bruising over Harry's chest, back and face; Skele-Gro repaired the cracked molars and the stress fracture to his jaw; a quick _Episkey _had the two lacerations on Harry's throat - both directly over the carotid artery, which caused Tony a great deal of horror when realizing exactly how close he had come to losing his son - closing without complications and the scrape on his cheek vanishing all together. The dehydration couldn't be treated with a spell; only a prescribed regime of drinks high in electrolytes and glucose content. That would also work to counter the effects of nearly two days lacking food.

All in all, Harry was in relatively good health.

What did concern Dr. Pharr, however, was the state of Harry's wand arm. The abrasions and contusions themselves were not problematic but the infection that had already set in was. He could clean the wounds but the poison was into his blood stream at this point. Healing the wounds now would seal the poison inside Harry's body. It needed to be treated the non-magical way, with a broad spectrum of antibiotics, disinfecting cream, and time. Dr. Pharr would then be able to remove most, if not all, of the scarring that would be left behind.

Madam Racine and Mr. Filch had considerately waited away from the room until Tony came out to speak with them. The father had been, understandably, furious that theirs was another school Harry had been abducted from. He had raged, yelling and threatening to withdraw his son from C.A.S.S.

Dan hadn't blamed him and even agreed with Tony. He admitted, quite fervently, that the request for Harry to meet his appointed chauffeur outside the wards and gates of the Academy should have set off a warning. Never before had the vehicle or driver not been able to enter the school campus. The reasons were obvious now - their ill intent would have not allowed them entry- and Dan said that he would fully support Tony's decision should he remove Harry from the school.

The Witch had been a little more reticent but also agreed to support the father. She told him, however, that as far as school policy went, Obadiah Stane had been Harry's legal guardian and able to make whatever arrangements for Harry to be taken from school grounds. That his guardianship had not been rescinded upon Tony's return was on Tony and his people; not the school.

The steam taken right out him, Tony had realized that they were right. He had been home for more than a month and had only seen Harry once in that time. He hadn't even taken the time to ensure that his son had been taken care of while Tony had been missing or find out what steps had been taken to do so. On one hand he was grateful for Obadiah stepping in and being the parent Harry needed, but on the other he was horrified that his own willful ignorance allowed the bastard to get his hands on Tony's son.

The two educators had apparated back to San Francisco, along with Dr. Pharr, leaving Tony with a lot of thinking to do about his behavior since his return. Taking a long, hard look at himself and his actions Tony was not happy with the picture that was being painted.

**Pardon me, Sir, but Colonel Rhodes has arrived and is accompanied by Agent Coulson. Neither is wishing to intrude, but Agent Coulson is requesting a moment of your time.**

"I'll stay with Harry," Pepper told the man in a whisper.

Tony sighed but nodded. He reluctantly rose from the chair he had been occupying for the last several hours and made his way to the entrance hall.

"How is he?" Rhodey asked as soon as he saw Tony.

"He'll be all right. Dr. Pharr sedated him; thinks he'll sleep until tomorrow." Tony responded, wearily rubbing at his eyes before turning to the federal agent. "Thank you for letting me get him out of there."

Coulson nodded briskly once. "I am aware of his status as a Wizard, Mr. Stark; any treatment after the removal of the device needed to be overseen by the appropriate medical staff."

Tony was somewhat taken aback by the man's bluntness but appreciated it none the less. "J.A.R.V.I.S. said you wanted to talk to me?"

"I'm sure you're unaware of this," the somber man began, "given you've had more pressing matters to attend, but Lawrence Michaels survived his injuries. He's in serious but stable condition at Valley Presbyterian Hospital under heavy guard. He regained consciousness twenty minutes ago and is asking about Harry."

"Son of a bitch," Tony snarled, his hands automatically fisting at his side. The room went still and he could feel the muscles trembling beneath his skin. He was... fury, rage, wrath... he was seeing red and he wanted nothing more than to storm into the hospital and tear the man apart.

Seeing his friend about to lose it, Rhodey tried to assuage the impending meltdown. "Obviously, he isn't being given any information and we'll keep him as far away from Harry as we can."

"Six feet under and buried in a pine box isn't far enough!" Tony growled.

"There's more, Mr. Stark," the agent didn't seem fazed at all by the vehemence on the father's face. "The media is running the events of last evening." He offered Tony the morning's paper, a large picture of Tony's suit printed beneath the headline '_WHO IS THE IRON MAN_?' greeting him.

Taking the newspaper, Tony quickly scanned it for any mention of Harry's name but was relieved to find the article focused solely on the fight on the freeway and the explosion at Stark Industries.

"We need to contain this," Agent Coulson continued.

"What do you need from me?" Tony asked immediately.

"A statement," Rhodey told him. "We've called for a press conference in a couple hours and we need you to give a prepared statement about the activities of the last sixteen hours."

"I won't include Harry in this," Tony shook his head adamantly.

"You won't have to, Mr. Stark." Coulson agreed. "The press is unaware of the events that took place this morning in Van Nuys and we are working to keep it that way. We're creating an alibi for the both of you as it is known that Harry was removed from school Friday afternoon. We'll take care of everything."

...

**October 26, 2009**

**Malibu, California**

Waking up was anti-climatic.

His body didn't even twitch as his eyes opened and Harry found himself on his side, staring at the ocean and clear blue skies outside the windows, in his own bed back at the Mansion. His breathing remained slow and even, until his brain started to process everything that had happened. He tensed, his heart thundered inside his chest and his breath came in frightened pants. He sat up when it suddenly became harder to actually breathe.

"Easy, Harry," The bed shifted and his father was right behind him. "Easy; deep slow breaths... "

A strong hand felt onto his arm and he clutched at it with own trembling palm, closing his eyes tightly as the room tilted dangerously. He was aware of his father's whispering voice, a second hand stroking his hair away from his sweat covered brow, but the pulse roaring in his ear made it difficult to hear anything else. It took several long moments for the panic to ebb and, despite just waking, Harry felt completely exhausted.

Tony's lips kissed the top of his head softly and his father murmured, "It's been a while since you've had a panic attack."

It had been years, actually.

The limited symptoms panic attacks had been a regular occurrence after his abduction from Our Lady of Malibu. The ordeal had only lasted a few hours, but the terror of being forcibly taken from the school had left the nine-year old terrified. He had suffered bouts of insomnia, and when he did manage to sleep it was often accompanied by nightmares. It was the panic attacks, though, that had scared Harry the most. The inability to breath, the tremors, the dizziness, and the pain in his chest had the little boy honestly afraid that he was going to die.

But like every child that age, he was able to adapt and deal with the trauma and the attacks had faded only a few weeks after the kidnapping. There had been a resurgence of the episodes after his attempted abduction when he was thirteen but they had passed after only a couple of days. During Tony's time missing in Afghanistan, Harry had come close to have a few attacks but the cigarettes he had begun smoking had tempered his bouts of anxiety.

Harry knew this attack was just the beginning.

Eyes still shut, Harry nodded. "Been a while since I've been kidnapped." The hand on his arm squeezed gently and Harry relished in the sense of safety he felt beside his father. Finally opening his eyes, he looked at Tony but didn't otherwise move.

His father looked rather rumbled. His light grey striped dress shirt was wrinkled, the top few buttons open, almost as if he had slept in it. His hair was mussed and there were dark circles around his eyes. Harry couldn't help but notice a few scrapes and bruises on Tony's face that looked a couple days old. It made him wonder just how long he'd been out of it, so he asked.

"What day is it?"

"Day?" Tony asked with a confused little frown.

Harry nodded. "How long was I...?" He pressed his lips together when he felt his heart stutter with the memory. "It was hard to tell day from night - there wasn't much light - and I kept dozing in and out; never knew how long I slept."

"Monday," Tony told him through gritted teeth, though Harry knew the man's anger wasn't directed at him. "I, uh, found you yesterday morning; before eleven."

He nodded again and let his eyes drift toward the windows. J.A.R.V.I.S. had a display up in the far corner and Harry was able to see the time. After nine; he'd been asleep for nearly twenty-four hours. He'd been drugged by Lawrence Friday afternoon, so almost two days...

He wished he could go back asleep, but there were things he needed to know. He absently touched the now bare spot on his left wrist. He could still feel it there; the tape pulling at his arm hair and the cool metal pressing into his skin. "What was it?"

"What was what?"

He could still feel the burning just beneath his skin that kept him from tapping into his magic. "The watch. That's what was stopping me from using my magic, wasn't it? The watch that Uncl-" His throat closed around the word and Harry found he was unable to continue speaking.

Tony reluctantly moved off the bed and started to slowly pace the floor. "It's called a Dampener. It's something that the Arcane Science Department developed a few years back. It turns the core inward to create a barrier to protect the wearer from low to mid range curses and hexes. It has the unfortunate side effect of completely locking away the core and the wearer is unable to use magic. The M.U.A. started using them, about eight months ago, to penalize magical criminals instead of having to constantly dose them with the suppression potions."

"Why would you want to use it on anyone?!" Harry asked, aghast at the very thought. "It's... inhumane! I could feel it all the time! And it - god, Dad, it hurt! Like my entire body was being prodded with a thousand tiny needles from the inside out!"

The father had gone a little green around the edges and he sat on the edge of the bed next to his son, taking Harry's hands between his own and giving them a gentle squeeze. "It doesn't hurt, not anymore. The one - the one that was used on you was an earlier prototype. After the first test subject reacted poorly while wearing it - describing a constant low pain, much like you did - and we discovered the power backlash when it was removed, it was shelved. It went missing from storage a year ago."

"A year?" Harry felt the blood rush from his face. "He - he had it for an entire year? Was it always meant for me or was I just the lucky one he got to use it on?"

"I don't know," Tony admitted.

"Well, what has he said about everything?" Harry demanded, pushing past the older man and getting somewhat unsteadily to his feet. He just couldn't stay still anymore; he'd been forced to be still for too long. "Why did he have Lawrence - Why?! I just don't get why! He said he wanted me safe; but safe from what? I sure as hell wasn't safe from that psychotic bastard working with them!"

"Harry," Tony reached out, gently taking hold of his son's arm only to have it shaken off.

"No!" Harry spun around to face the older Stark, decidedly ignoring how the world wobbled. "I need to know! I need-" His vision faded and he felt his knees buckled beneath him.

"Whoa!" Tony leaped from the bed and grabbed onto his son before he hit the floor. "Okay, you need to get back into bed. Dr. Pharr said you might be a little unsteady for the first few hours after waking; until we can get some food and water into you. When was the last time you ate or drank something, Kiddo?"

Rapidly blinking his eyes, his sight came back after only a second and his legs were able to support him again, although a little shakily. Harry allowed his father to guide him back to his bed where he sat wearily on the edge of the mattress. "Please don't call me that." He rubbed at the headache that was beginning to form behind his forehead.

"What, 'Kiddo'?"

Harry cringed and nodded. "Lawrence and Uncle Obi kept calling me that; even after... Just, don't. Please."

Heavy silence fell around the pair and Harry regretted saying anything when he saw the rage burning behind his father's otherwise calm facade. But, Tony just nodded. "All right, Harry. Just try to relax for a few minutes; I'll be back with something to eat."

True to his words, Tony was gone barely five minutes before he was back with a tray of plain toast, a glass of apple juice, and a bottle of blue Gatorade. He sat the tray on the top of the comforter next to Harry and the teenager realized just how hungry and thirsty he was.

"Go slow," Tony told him and took his place in the chair beside the bed, "or you'll make yourself sick."

Nodding, Harry picked up a piece of toast and began nibbling on it, forcing himself not to gobble it back. When it was half gone, he swallowed and asked, "Tell me what happened?"

"Maybe I shouldn't." Tony hesitated, fiddling with the wrinkled pin-stripe suit jacket that had been draped over the arm of the chair. "You're recovering and you don't need to stress out over this. Let me take care of it."

"Dad," he said evenly, setting aside the toast as he had already lost his appetite. "No secrets. I need to know why. Why did Uncle Obi..." he swallowed thickly around the thump in his throat. "Why did Stane do it? Why kidnap me?"

The doubt was clear on Tony's face, but after a moment of silence he sighed and tapped his finger against the faint glow permeating through his shirt. "Because of this."

With another sigh, one filled with a dozen different emotions, Tony got up from his seat and pushed the tray aside. He picked up the bottle of Gatorade and cracked the seal, offering it to his son. Wordlessly, Harry took it and drank nearly a third of it before Tony reached up and eased it away.

"Obadiah tried to kill me," Tony began bluntly. When Harry's eyes went wide and he opened his mouth to speak, the older Stark held up his hand forestalling him. "Let me talk, Harry. You drink; I talk." A third sigh in less than a minute, the genius leaned back against the headboard beside his son and began talking.

Harry was told about Obadiah's attempt on his father's life, the confession about hiring terrorist to kill him in Afghanistan, and admitting that he had Harry secreted away somewhere. Tony told him everything, from nearly dying on the floor of the workshop, to fighting Stane's suit and destroying the Arc Reactor at Stark Industries, to nearly dying again on the roof of the building when it exploded.

He was told that Obadiah was dead and he didn't know how to feel about that.

It wasn't right to mourn the man; not after what he'd done to Harry and his family. Still, he couldn't stop his eyes from tearing up or the hitch in his breathing. Tony put his arm around his shoulder and drew him into his side, and Harry let his chin droop to his chest as he cried silently for the man that had betrayed them both.

**Sirs; It's nearing ten o'clock and Miss Potts will be here shortly with Colonel Rhodes and Agent Coulson for the scheduled debriefing.**

Wiping the moisture from his face, Harry pulled back from Tony and looked at the man questioningly. "Debriefing?"

Tony was frowning but nodded. "Dr. Pharr told us you'd be awake sometime this morning. Agent Coulson needs to talk to you about what happened on the jet. We've been able to piece most of it together, and that Michaels fellow has filled in a lot of blanks but-"

"Wait, Lawrence is alive?!" Harry exclaimed, eyes wide. "I thought - when Bowen stabbed him I thought he..."

"He almost did," the father snarled with obvious disappointment. "The only good thing about that is now I get to see him raked across the coals for what he did to you."

"He saved me from Bowen," the teenager automatically defended his friend - former friend.

"That doesn't make him any less culpable of kidnapping you!" Tony snapped.

"I know that!" Harry retorted brusquely, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. "I just... I don't understand! He is - was my friend!"

The older man had his arms wrapped around Harry again. Neither said anything for the moment and didn't move until J.A.R.V.I.S. quietly interrupted again.

**Your guests are here, Sirs.**

Harry felt his father press his lips into his hair and once more reluctantly pulled back from the teenager. "Can you talk to Rhodey and Agent... uh, J.A.R.V.I.S.?"

**Coulson, Sir.**

"Coulson - thank you." Tony regarded Harry with no small amount of worry. "You can meet with them here if you want to stay in bed or I can help you out into the living room or if you're not ready I can get the Suit on and chase them away - actually, I'm all for that one! Let's go with door number three!"

Harry was glad to feel the smile on his face and he chuckled at his father's familiar babbling. "I'd rather talk to them and get it over with. But maybe I could shower and get dressed first?"

The older man was frowning at the suggestion. "No offense, Kid- uh, Harry, but you're not exactly steady on your feet right now."

"Dad, I'm fine," he insisted. To prove his point he got up out of bed again, waving off Tony's hand when it tried to help him. "See? The bit of toast and Gatorade has helped already."

"All right," Tony agreed unenthusiastically. "We'll need to cover the bandages on your arm first. And J.A.R.V.I.S. will be monitoring you. If you get into trouble just stay put and he'll let me know to come help you out. I'll head down and keep them occupied; you just take your time. All right?"

Fifteen minutes later, cleaned and dressed in a pair of plaid cotton sleep pants, Harry was sitting n the edge of his bed and catching his breath. Despite his earlier claims he was still a little shaky. He reached for the long sleeve t-shirt he had tossed over the chair, accidentally pulling his father's forgotten jacket from the chair along with it. The fabric slid to the floor, spilling three light blue recipe cards from the pocket.

Picking up the jacket and the cards, Harry couldn't help but glance at the words written on them. He smiled at the cue cards for a press conference his Dad must have given the sometime yesterday while Harry was out of it. He chuckled as he continued to read, amused with the alibi that had been created for him and his Dad. Apparently, he had indeed been kidnapped but by his own father who wanted to surprise him with a weekend of supervised underage partying and gambling without Pepper getting wind of it. He just knew his father would have hammed it up for the media.

"Hey, J.A.R.V.I.S.? Can you bring up a replay of Dad's press conference last night?" He could use the laugh before going down and recounting his ordeal.

**Right away, Harry.**

The television on his wall flickered to life and a moment later an image of Uncle James in his uniform behind the podium at Stark Industries was showing on the screen.

_"You've all received the official statement of what occurred at Stark Industries last night. There have been-"_

"Cue it to when Dad takes the stage, please." Harry slipped his t-shirt on over his head, carefully pulling the sleeve over his bandages. As the play back sped forward, he smiled with amused anticipation. He imagined it would be rather entertaining, watching Tony act as if he'd been on a two day bender with his son on his yacht off the coast of Avalon.

The video slowed down as Rhodey stepped back from the podium, allowing Tony to take his place behind it. During the press conference he was wearing the same shirt Harry had seen him wearing earlier and the same jacket had been haphazardly tossed back onto the chair. Tony seemed a little chagrined standing before the press and hemmed and hawed a moment before speaking.

_"Thank you. Been a while since I was in front of you. I figure I'll stick to the cards this time."_ Harry snickered along with the press corps. _"There's been speculation that I was involved in the events that occurred on the freeway and the rooftop-"_

_"I'm sorry, Mr Stark,"_ a woman's voice interrupted his father off screen, _"but do you honestly expect us to believe that that was a bodyguard in a suit that conveniently appeared, despite the fact that you-"_

_"I know that it's confusing,"_ Tony butted in right back. _"It's is one thing to question the official story, and another thing entirely to make wild accusations, or insinuate that I'm a - a superhero."_

The grin on Harry's face faltered. There was something visible in his father's eyes that worried the teenager.

_"I never said you were a superhero_." The same woman clarified quickly.

Tony seemed surprised, hurt even. _"You didn't? Well, good, because that would be outlandish and, uh, fantastic."_

"Oh shit," Harry slumped onto his bed, watching with growing wariness.

_"I'm just not the hero type,"_ he father had continued, the babbling Harry was all too familiar with taking over. _"Clearly. With this laundry list of character defects, all the mistakes I've made, largely public-"_ Uncle James had leaned over and whispered something into Tony's ear. The inventor cleared his throat when the Colonel stepped back again and lifted the cards to read from. _"The tru-"_

"Stop playback." Tony's voice came from Harry's doorway but the young wizard didn't bother turning away from the image that froze on screen.

"Tell me you didn't." He demanded coolly of his father. "Tell me that you didn't admit to the world wide press that you were inside the suit."

"Iron Man," Tony corrected automatically. Harry couldn't see it, but he could feel the man's wince. "The press - that's what they've called the suit. The Iron Man. And of course not! Why would I when I had a ready-made alibi for you and me and a dozen different sword statements from party guests and-"

"Continue playback." Harry snapped.

_"-th is, I am-"_

"Stop playback!" Tony came into the room and knelt in front of Harry. "Okay, so maybe I did! But-"

Harry pulled his hands away when the man reached to hold them. "Did it happen to escape your genius intellect that I had just been kidnapped? That the man who did - a man I had known my entire life - did so to get at that fucking thing in your chest?!" Anger overwhelmed him and he leaped off the bed, storming across the room to get away from Tony. "What do you think people will do to get that goddamn suit?!"

"I'm sorry!" Tony flinched at his son's rage. "I didn't think-"

"YOU JUST PAINTED A FUCKING TARGET ON MY BACK!" Harry roared, his voice tearing through the mansion as readily as his already frayed magic. The sudden pulse of power knocked everything back from the furious wizard. The furniture hit the walls and his father's body was knocked onto his back. Every window on the third floor blew out in an explosion of glass, the lights went out, and even the television screen cracked and went black. Tony's face had contorted in pain and his hand had gone to his chest, the blue glow beneath his shirt flickering wildly.

Harry turned away from the man on the floor and forced himself to calm down before his magic reacted again and killed his own father. He could hear the thundering footsteps coming up the stairs and wasn't truly surprised when Happy was the first to burst into the room with Rhodey right behind him. The Agent was next - Harry didn't fail to notice his weapon had been drawn - followed by Pepper.

"Oh my god," the woman breathed, seeing the state of the room. "What-"

"I can't stay here," Harry muttered with a shake of his head, desperately trying to remain in control and not break down. "I can't... Happy, will you take me back to school?" He looked imploringly at the bodyguard. Happy, his uncertainty and confusion plain on his face, just nodded and left the room to ready the car.

"Harry, please," Tony pleaded from where he still lay prone, though Pepper was now beside him and making sure he was alright. Harry was glad to see the steady glow of the reactor again when the man sat up with her help. "Stay; we'll sort this out!"

The boy shook his head and entered his closet, grabbing a pair of random shoes before tearing out of the room. He didn't know who had followed him, but he figured Uncle James and the Agent; Pepper wouldn't leave his Dad.

"Harry, what happened?" Rhodey asked quietly, keeping his distance to let Harry have his space as the boy slid on his shoes.

"Ask Iron Man," Harry snapped. Seeing the Colonel understand and cringe, Harry sighed. "Sorry Uncle James. I just... I can't be here right now. My magic is... well, you saw it upstairs. I could kill him, unintentionally, right now. I... I can't be here."

"Car's ready, Harry," Happy told them when he peeked his head in through the front doors.

"You may want this, Mr. Stark." Agent Coulson held out Harry's backpack. "I'll talk to you in San Francisco in a couple days."

"I wondered what happened to it." Harry thanked the Agent, quickly ensuring everything was still inside - including his wand. "

"We found it at Obadiah's penthouse," Rhodey told him. He stepped toward Harry and hugged him gently. "Remember: your Dad loves you, Magic Man. It just... things have gotten complicated since he came home."

"Funny; that's exactly what Uncle Obi told me after I asked him why he kidnapped me." Harry stepped back from the hug and followed Happy out of the house.

...

**October 26, 2009**

**Beverly Hills, California**

The doors to the penthouse suite of the Beverly Wilshire opened and a grim faced Tony Stark preceded his assistant and a pair of bellhops into the grand room. He didn't acknowledge any of them as he made a beeline straight for the good stuff behind the bar.

"Is that really a good idea, Tony?" the woman asked, after having tipped the hotel staff and dismissing them politely.

Pouring a large amount of Scotch into a glass, he barely glanced up at her as she entered the room. "My son, my _fifteen_ year old son, is so angry at me that he practically leveled our home. He shorted out everything in the building, despite it all being shielded against EMPs and magical interference, and nearly took out my arc reactor. I think it is not only a very good idea but a very necessary one as well."

The liquor touched the top of the six ounce glass and Tony didn't pause before he slammed the entire contents back. The burn as he swallowed served to ground him and he exhaled slowly through his nose. Pouring a second glass, nearly just as full, he set aside the decanter and walked into the living room where he turned on the television and slumped onto the sofa - all without spilling a drop.

_"-conflicting reports about what happened yesterday morning." _The male reporter was standing in front of the gates of the Stark Industries Aviation Department. A news feed was scrolling across the bottom and Harry's name panned across the screen. _"While the Police and FBI are refusing to comment, Van Nuys Airport Authority have confirmed that Iron Man, Tony Stark, was seen flying into this hangar behind me only hours after the fight with the supposed malfunctioning robot prototype. No one is certain what exactly went on inside but, whatever the events, they left one man dead and another hospitalized in serious but stable condition._

_"A source, who wishes to remain anonymous and who was inside the Hangar at the time, has told this reporter that Mr. Stark's son, fifteen year old Harold Anthony Stark, was removed from the premises via ambulance shortly after authorities arrived. Rumors abound that the Stark heir had been kidnapped from his boarding school in San Francisco Friday afternoon and was being held captive by members of the same terrorist organization who, only six months ago, kidnapped the CEO of Stark Industries while in Afghanistan._

_"With Tony Stark's own admission that he is the Iron Man, speculations have arose that terrorists targeted Harry Stark as a means to gain access to the Iron Man prototype which many believe Tony create to facilitate his escape from the ter-"_

The television clicked off and Pepper sat the remote on the coffee table. Sitting elegantly in the chair next to it, she regarded her boss silently.

"Harry's right, isn't he?" Tony asked morosely, staring at his drink but no imbibing. "I've made him a target."

"You did," she answered honestly and without inflection. "So what are you going to do about it?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. I just... I don't know."

...

**October 27, 2009**

**Hogwarts, Scotland**

"Albus! Albus!"

Headmaster Dumbledore looked up at his closed door at the voice hollering up the staircase to his office. He glanced over at his many devices, on in particular that was spouting pale smoke that formed the words: _James Potter._

Albus' eyes went wide.

He had been forced to inform the Potter Head that his son was not his magical heir several years ago when Albus had learned of the second prophecy. Needless to say, the man had not been happy and had not spoken to the Chief Warlock in that time. Albus had made casual overtures to aid the man in finding his 'son' but they had been rebuffed time and again.

He could only imagine what brought the man to his door.

James Potter, with his bespectacled eyes wide in excitement and black hair wild as always, burst into the Headmaster's office. He was panting with the exertion of having, most likely, ran the entire way from the apparation point.

"James, my Boy, what-"

"I found the Magic!" he gasped, leaning over as he tried to regain his breath. "The Potter Magic; it flared - hell it bloody well exploded! - through my tracking spells. Twice in the last forty eight hours."

Albus was on his feet. "Where?"

"Not in England or Europe like we thought." James shook his head though his eyes never lost their excited shine. "America; my heir - my _son_ is in America!"


	7. Tastes Like Coconut, Part One

**Chapter Seven: Tastes Like Coconut, Part One**

**December 24, 2009**(1)

**Malibu, California**

**You have a visitor, Sir.**

"Yeah, I got that, J.A.R.V.I.S." Tony tried not to frown when he entered the newly repaired Mansion. Rhodey was standing in the entrance way looking way too unimpressed. Tony didn't sigh, but it was a near thing, and closed the door behind him. "To what do I owe the pleasure...?"

"I think you know," the other man glowered. "Since you made your little announcement I've discovered a new hobby; covering your ass."

"So, what you're saying," Tony drawled as he made his way to the stairs down to the lab, "is that you're here on business unrelated to your gig as Military Liaison to my company. Just wanted to be sure. Come on downstairs."

He could hear his friend huff in frustration but Rhodey followed him down.

"Look," Tony keyed in the code and opened the door to his workshop. "I know you've been running interference for me when I've gone off the reservation."

**Welcome back, Sir. I've got diagnostic analysis on the new model units-**

"Upload it to the simulator, J.A.R.V.I.S."

"Just answer me this," Rhodey brought the inventor's attention back to him before Tony could get into things. "Was that you that his that depot in Pavlodar?"

Tony scoffed as he headed for the dismantled pieces of Iron Man armour hanging from the ceiling. "You think I've got any interest in a Ten Rings sect in cahoots with rogue Russian nationalists? Come on! But I will say this," He turned to face the Colonel with a shit-eating grin. "As a vacation spot, you could do worse than Kazakhstan in the spring."

"But you've confirmed the Ten Rings were involved?" Rhodey didn't bother trying to hide his sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose and inhaled slowly. "Fine. Okay, well, at least the hostages are okay. It could have gotten pretty messy had things gone a different way. Innocent people could have died."

Tony looked up from where he was fiddling with a computer component, his face stern and unapologetic. "Not on my watch."

"Come on, man," Rhodey met the man's gaze with a frown. "It's a matter of protocol. I'm just trying to tell you: you're making people nervous. You're rushing in and dealing with situations before we can officially deploy you."

"Protocol?!" Tony snorted and shook his head, going back to the broken down tech in front of him. "Can I help it if you guys move too slow?"

"That's not the point." The military protested.

"Then what is the point?"

"The point is we're supposed to be working together!" Rhodey practically threw his hands up in the air.

"I appreciate that, I really do." Tony turned to face Rhodey, tugging his shirt open as he did so. The glow of his reactor illuminated his work area with its familiar soft blue glow. "You try living with Arc Reactor tech sitting in your chest. If it wasn't for this there wouldn't be an Iron Man."

"I know," Rhodey's face fell with the grim reminder of his friend's mortality. "They've got me writing a report on you now."

Tony's face actually lit up with amusement. "Really? Well, be sure to send me a copy over; I'll give it a glance. Or you could just tell me what it says. You going to throw me under the bus or what? I can take it."

"Please." Shaking his head, Colonel Rhodes rolled his eyes. "I'm going to assess the situation and offer my recommendation. I'm still the best ally you're going to have; remember that."

The genius seemed to soften at that and gave a little smile. "Rhodey-"

**Sir. A-1 priority alert coming through now. Grabbed off the satellite feeds.**

"Patch me in, J.A.R.V.I.S.!" Tony moved away from his tinkering and headed for the computer controls for the suit.

"Tony, this is exactly what I'm talking about!" Rhodes exclaimed in frustration just as his cell phone began to buzz. Watching as Tony moved about the lab, he answered. "Rhodes... Yes, Sir... Yes, Sir, I am... Actually, I think he's got the intel already, Sir... I'll tell him. Yes, Sir."

Colonel Rhodes hung up but, by this time, the billionaire was already initiating the suit-up process. "Tony!" He called over the drone of the machines. "They want you to do some reconnaissance first. Whatever's being reported on in Al Kut is-"

"People are dying, Rhodey," Tony said grimly as the last pieces of the Iron Man suit were put into place. "That means full speed ahead."

When the Iron Man was gone, having flown out of the newly installed skylight, Rhodey sighed again and started to turn toward the exit. His heart plummeted into his stomach when he saw the figure sitting on the stairs outside the workshop doors.

"He doesn't say goodbye to me anymore either." Harry told him with an emotionless half-smile. "Actually, I'm lucky if he's been around long enough to say two words to me since I came home for break."

Rhodey frowned at the statement. It deepened into a scowl when he saw the packed bag at Harry's feet. "You leaving, Magic-Man? It's Christmas Eve."

"Going back to school. I've already called a car from the motor pool; it's waiting outside with the driver." Harry got to his feet and shouldered the bag. "Pep's spending the holiday with family up North, Happy's with his sister out East, and you're on duty until New Years. It was supposed to be him and me; a regular father and son Christmas, except he won't be back before sometime tomorrow night and I doubt he'll even notice I'm gone."

"Harry-"

"Merry Christmas, Uncle James." Harry turned his back on the man and started up the stairs "Lock the front door on your way out please."

...

**February 17, 2010**

**San Francisco, California**

The cool drizzle didn't even faze him. Running at a steady pace, Harry's sneakers were splashing through the accumulated water on the path around the C.A.S.S. campus. He wound around other students meandering the grounds, never faltering in his stride or acknowledging any of the greetings shouted at him as he passed. He cut off the path and onto the grass just past the cafeteria, cutting back in front of the School Annex and heading for the fitness studio.

This had been his routine for almost four months now. Every since he came back to school after his abduction he had been training practically non-stop. He'd taken to running every night before his extra defense classes with Madam Racine or Mr. Filch. Both had sat in lieu of a parent when Agent Coulson had arrived to talk to Harry about the kidnapping. The agent had offered to come another time when Tony would be able to be there, but Harry hadn't been ready to see his father just yet. After listening to him recount the ordeal, both Defense instructors had offered their time to help train him.

Madam Racine's first lesson was to never be without his wand. Tucked inside his backpack it had been useless. She had gotten him a holster that was strapped to his arm at all times. A single flex of the muscle had the wand springing into his palm. It was the same holster used by Officers of the Magical Police Units across the country.

Mr. Filch's first lesson was running from confrontation. "You're in good shape," the man had told Harry, "but your endurance is shit. You want to run from a fight you better damn well make sure you take the lead and don't let up. Because now you know what happens when the bad guys catch up to you don't."

So, Harry ran.

Two and a half laps around the circumference of the school grounds - ten miles, four times a week. The first few times, Mr. Filch had run with him; keeping on him and never letting him slow. Even when he was wheezing for breath and his legs could barely support him. It took him nearly three hours that first night, but now he was running without pause on his own and in about fifty-five minutes.

Finally slowing his pace, Harry arrived at the studio near the boy's dorms less than an hour after he started. The side door was open and waiting for him, as it was every night, and he jogged casually into the gym. Passing between the retracted sets of bleachers, he headed for change room where he could grab a towel to dry off. Inside the locker room the lights were low but he could see well enough to make his way to the storage where the towels were kept.

He was passing a row of lockers when he suddenly became aware of the presence of someone else behind him. Before he could flex his right arm, releasing his wand from its holster, a gloved hand grabbed onto his wrist, trapping the weapon there, and twisted his arm being his back. The leather-clad palm of the person's other hand slapped over his mouth and he was held back-to-chest with his assailant.

Reacting instinctively, he stepped into the instep of the man's foot the same moment he drove the elbow of his free arm into the guy's solar plexus. Hearing the air huff out of the man's lungs, Harry bent over at the waist while grabbing at his attacker's right shoulder. Twisting his hips, Harry pulled the guy's weight over and threw the larger body into the concrete wall.

As the man went flying, the hold on Harry's wand arm let go and in an instant he had the length of Sequoia and Thunderbird feather in his hand. A binding spell was on his lips and flying even before the man hit the wall. Ropes spewed from the wood and wrapped tightly around the familiar shape of Mr. Filch. Arms, torso, thighs and ankles bound, the senseless teacher slid bonelessly to the floor.

"Fuck!" Harry exclaimed, scowling at his instructor. Satisfied the man was secured, he muttered _"Rennervate."_

With a pain-filled groan, Mr. Filch came around. He shifted on the floor in his bindings, frowning momentarily before seeing Harry standing over him in the dark. "Nicely done, Harry."

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" Harry demanded of the man. "You haven't grabbed me like that in weeks!"

"You're never going to know when someone's going to attack you," the man retorted with a smile. "You fought back, didn't panic, and your magic didn't react; that's a huge improvement from the first few times. And you're remembering your lessons; you followed through and incapacitated your assailant."

"Yeah, well..." Now a little embarrassed, Harry rubbed at the back of his neck and lowered his wand slightly.

"We're not done for tonight though," Mr. Filch shifted his bound body into a sitting position with his back against the wall. "Let me out of this Incarserous and we'll get to work."

Harry frowned at the man. "Tell me what I said to you the first time we met."

The man sighed and rolled his eyes. "Harry, let me up so we can get to work."

"Uh uh." The wand in his hand was raised and aimed once more at the man. "Tell me what I said or I stun you and send a patronus to Madam Racine."

"You told me you couldn't see my point of view because you couldn't get your head that far up my ass."

Harry spun on the first word, his wand now aimed at another Dan Filch. The free man was smiling and leaning casually against the lockers behind Harry. The teenager scowled. "What is it with you and giving me heart attacks?!"

The defense instructor just chuckled and pushed off the locker with his shoulder. He nodded toward the downed copy of himself. "You can let him out now, Harry. He's harmless. The polyjuice will be wearing off in any time now. If you took any longer getting here from your run he'd have to have taken another dose."

"He sounded exactly like you," Harry looked back at the phony Filch. "Mimicry Charm?"

The phony Filch nodded and held up his bound hands defensively when Harry's wand was suddenly pointed at him again. "Just... don't kill me, okay Harry? It was all his idea."

"We'll see." Harry voice promised retribution and cast Finite at the man.

The ropes vanished and, as the person stretched, his body began to morph and change. Blonde hair replaced dark and the frame became more slender. The youngest Stark couldn't help the small smile that turned his lips when the clothes drooped on a body he intimately familiar with.

Stepping toward his friend, Harry held out his hand in silent offer. Drew smiled warmly up at him and accepted, pulling himself to his feet. He didn't let go of Harry's hand though and tugged him closer. "Sorry if I scared you." Drew apologized sincerely, leaning into Harry's space and kissing him lightly on the lips.

A voice cleared itself behind them. "Faculty member in the vicinity; keep the public displays of affection where I can't see them."

The teenagers both snickered but stepped away. Drew glanced down at his ill-fitting clothes, "I'm going to go get changed," and walked into the dark of the locker room.

"And you," Mr. Filch pointed to Harry then back toward the gym. "We really aren't done. Put the wand away and get out the mats. We need to clean up your Kajukenbo, Kiddo."

Grimacing at the nickname, Harry led the way out of the change room. "Don't call me that, Dan!"

"Why?" Mr. Filch questioned as he followed. "It's just a name."

Harry stalked over to the thin mats that had already been laid out on the far side of the gym. "It's the name of a kid who did't fight back."

Dan's hand suddenly reached out and gently took Harry by the arm, stopping him, and turning him to face the older man. "It's the name of a kid who _couldn't_ fight back." Slowly, moving purposefully so Harry could see what he was doing, Mr. Filch took hold of Harry's right arm and pushed back the wand holder a couple of inches. The white, half-inch wide scar, that encircled the crease of his wrist, was the only physical reminder of what he had gone through. He couldn't stop the convulsive swallow at the sight of the thing. "And even then you still did."

Filch let the holster slide back into place and walked to the opposite side of the mat. "Remember, Harry: I heard your debriefing with Agent Coulson. I know what you did and how hard you tried to get away. Kiddo is just a name; don't let it have any power over you."

Not knowing what to say to that, Harry chose to remain silent. He watched as Mr. Filch took a standard defensive stance and moved his own body into an attacking position. Mr. Filch raised an eyebrow at him in question and he just nodded his readiness.

"All right; begin with Tum Pai."

...

**March 28, 2010**

**Crescent City, California**

"You came."

The heavy door clanged shut behind him and Harry forced himself not to jump at the sound. Uncle James' hand was comforting on his shoulder and the man gave it a reassuring squeeze before stepping into a corner of the little room.

"I'd get up but..."

Harry flinched at the jangle of chains when Lawrence Michaels jerked his shackled hands beneath the table. Without saying a word, Harry swallowed his anxiety and took the chair situated at the far end of the table from the prisoner.

Lawrence cleared his throat and peered across the length of the table. "I wasn't sure your old man would let you come."

"He doesn't know I'm here," Harry admitted, finally finding his voice.

The convict glanced over at Rhodey, who was scowling but otherwise remaining out of the conversation, then looked back at the teenager. "Can I ask you why?"

"No." Harry answered bluntly. He inhaled slowly, trying to calm his racing heart. He was safe here, as safe as anyone can be in a prison surrounded by the worst of the worst of California's worst offenders. Pelican Bay State Prison was not a place any sane person would want to be.

Clearing his throat, Harry clasped his hands together and set them on the table surface in front of him. "I hear you're cooperating with the government?"

Lawrence nodded. "Yeah, it made sense if I wanted to avoid the death penalty." The man sighed and sat back as much as he could in his chair. "I'm not a nice guy, Kiddo; I never was."

Harry glared at the man. "_You_ don't get to call me that anymore."

"No, I suppose I don't." Lawrence wore a sad smile as he eyed Harry curiously. "Why are you here, _Harry_?

"Because you asked me to come."

"I wasn't sure if you'd been getting the letters or not." Lawrence commented with a little surprise.

"Getting them, not reading them." Harry spat viciously. "They've made great kindling. I'm here, because a S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent delivered it to me by hand and asked me to read it before burning it."

"Did you?"

Harry couldn't stop the faint snort of amusement. "You try denying Agent Coulson what he wants. Yes, I read it. I wanted you to explain it to me, because I don't get how you can dare ask me something like that."

"I can accept that." Lawrence agreed, and then began talking.

He had told S.H.I.E.L.D., the F.B.I. and the C.I.A. everything about Obadiah Stane and everything he knew about the man's operations. It had, apparently, been quite a lot. It would take years for them to process everything and follow the connections to other organizations and uncover the figurative and literal bodies that were buried across the globe.

Lawrence hadn't been kidding when he said he wasn't a good man. Harry found him vile and despicable and it was no longer just because he had betrayed Harry's trust. And by the look on the prisoner's face he had expected such a reaction.

"The Government has offered me a deal, Harry, and I've taken it." Lawrence explained. "In exchange for everything I've divulged, they won't put me to trial. The danger to my life, and thereby my testimony, is too great. I'll be kept here in solitary confinement for a few more months and then I'm going to disappear. They'll set me up somewhere isolated, warded from entry and exit; I won't be able to leave. I'll have enough food to sustain me for the rest of my life and a few other supplies to keep me from losing my mind. Then, with the help of people like you, they're going to cast some sort of charm that will hide me from anyone and everyone that may be looking for me. To do that, they need someone to anchor the spell to."

"You want me to be you Secret Keeper." Harry shook his head incredulously. He got up from his chair and started for the door. Rhodey fell into step beside him.

"Harry, please." Lawrence pleaded. "I'm not doing this for any reason other than I owe you."

The young Wizard stopped and turned to face the man, arms folded over his chest. "Why would you think asking me that is anyway to repay me?"

"Because if anyone finds me for something I did, I want it to be because of what I did do you." Lawrence met his eyes and Harry could see the complete honesty of what the man was saying. "I've done a lot of horrible things, Harry; but the only thing I've ever regretted is betraying you trust and friendship the way I did. If - _when_ someone finds me to end me, I want it to be because you wanted them to."

"You've got a lot of nerve!" Rhodey growled his first contribution to the conversation. His hands were fisted at his side and Harry thought the man looked like he wanted to leap across the table and strangle Lawrence.

"It's okay, Uncle James." Harry assured the military man and placed a hand on Rhodey's arm. He turned to Lawrence and nodded once. "Alright; I'll be the Secret Keeper. You did try to save me from Bowen, after all, and were gutted for it. But know this: Once it's done - once the Charm has been cast - I will have them Obliviate the knowledge from me. Not to protect you, but because I don't think you're worth thinking about ever again."

"Good-bye, Mr. Michaels."

**...**

**May 3, 2010**

**Malibu, California**

"The notary's here; will you please come sign the transfer paperwork."

Arms up in front of his face, Tony danced around his bodyguard inside the ring. "I'm on Happy time." He jabbed his gloved fists into the man's protective padding before bouncing back out of his reach. They circled each other for another moment before Happy moved into his space and Tony reacted - jab, jab, elbow... okay, so Happy was not a fan of Mixed Martial Arts.

When the other man suddenly went still, his eyes focusing on something behind Tony, the inventor glanced over his shoulder and his good mood diminished.

Chatting happily with a stunning, petite redhead was his son. Harry's mouth was turned in a charming half-smile and his hand was resting on the back of hers that he had looped through the crook of his other arm. She was smiling back, chuckling with amusement at something he said, as she was escorted like a lady of old down the short flight of stairs and into the gym.

"I promise you," Pepper called again with a hint of exasperation, "this will be the only time I ask you to sign over your company."

"Temporarily," Harry injected with a teasing grin at the woman he called his aunt. The vision on Harry's arm was deposited beside the new Start Industries' C.E.O. and the teenager leaned across to give Pepper an affectionate kiss on her cheek. "Good morning, Aunty P."

Pepper smiled warmly at Harry. "Good morning, Harry. Happy's flying you back to school once we get this paperwork all sorted out."

With an appreciative and flirtatious grin at the other redhead, Harry shrugged. "I don't know, Aunty P; I think I could get a more practical schooling here."

The unknown woman chuckled again. "Smooth, Kid. Real smooth." Opening the leather portfolio in her hand she held it out for them. "I just need you both to initial each box."

Watching the exchange with no small amount of confusion, Tony was brought out of his reverie by a padded tapping to the back of his head. Rolling his eyes he spun and quickly bore his bodyguard to the ground. As the man recovered, Tony grabbed his bottle of chlorophyll and turned his attention back to the trio in the corner.

"What's your name, Lady?"

"Rushman." She looked up at him while the others continued going through the paperwork. "Natalie Rushman."

"Front and center," he beckoned. "Come into the church."

Harry set aside his pen and frowned. "Dad, come on."

"No." Pepper was just as unimpressed. "You're seriously not going to ask-"

"If it pleases the court," Tony tugged on the ropes, creating a space for her to crawl through, "Which it does."

Rushman, Natalie Rushman, smiled indulgently and handed the portfolio off to Pepper. "It's no problem."

Harry was quick to offer her his arm again with another suave smile (And just where the hell did his fifteen year old son get a look like that?!). "Then allow me escort you once again, Milady. Have you ever studied Kajukenbo? "

She laughed and accepted the arm. "Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"

Tony stepped back as Harry slid into the ring first, sparing his father an annoyed glare, before turning back and helping Miss Rushman climb through the ropes. Really, this kid was stealing all his moves!

"You look like you've done some martial arts," Harry complimented her as he led her into the center of the ring. "Kick boxing? Jujitsu?"

"Both, actually." She admitted, completely ignoring Tony much to the older Stark's consternation.

At the side of the ring, divesting himself of his equipment, Happy watched his boss with obvious amusement. When Tony slid from the ring and joined Pepper she clearly found the situation just as humorous.

He slumped into the seat next to his former assistant. "What's Harry doing here?"

"This _is_ his home, Tony." Any trace of joviality fled her expression with his question and she glared at him.

"That's not what I meant," he winced. "I just meant, why is he here and not at school. Isn't it, like... a school day or something?"

The woman sighed, not at all fondly, and crossed one leg over the other. "It's Monday, Tony, and Harry's initials and signature were needed before the paperwork can be filed. The helicopter is already on the pad and ready for Happy to fly him back to San Francisco. Besides, he came home for the weekend like he does every year for my birthday."

"It's your birthday?" He interrupted with a jolt. "Already?"

She pursued her lips. "It was, on Friday. I figured, since you're giving me temporary control over your company until Harry turns twenty-one you didn't need to get me a gift this year. However," she fingered the delicate gold charm and chain at her throat, "Harry gave me this lovely pendant and took me for dinner and dancing this year. Then we went to the Santa Monica pier on Saturday and supper with some friends at Cecconi's. And yesterday we had brunch at IHOP. It's been a very pleasant weekend."

Tony frowned, watching his teenage son move behind Miss Rushman's lithe petite body to correct her form. There was a genuine look of amused surprise in her vivid green eyes. Not as bright and jeweled as Harry's, but stunning none the less. "Is he flirting with her? He's flirting with her! I thought he had a girlfriend! The blue one. Water Something-or-other... and why wasn't I invited to your birthday weekend?"

"River was only at C.A.S.S. on a Semester's Student Exchange; she went back to Russia during Winter break. Five months ago. And you were invited, Tony." Pepper told him bluntly. "However, you didn't bother removing yourself from your workshop so we didn't press the issue. It's obvious you have other priorities right now."

That was a low blow, but she wasn't wrong. There was just so much he had to do and so little time left to do it in. He just hoped that they could forgive him and move past it when he was gone.

...

**May 23, 2010**

**San Francisco, California**

"Harry... Harry, man, you're gonna wanna get up and see this!"

Lifting his head from his pillow, Harry looked over at the clock next to his bed. "What the fuck, Warren!" He hissed through his teeth, rubbing the haze from his eyes. "It's four o'clock in the fucking morning!"

"Your old man's racing in Monaco." The senior said with a grin. "A couple of us are watching the race live out in the common room. Your dad just came out onto the track, bumped Defilipo and put himself in the race!"

"Fuck," Harry let his head fall back into his pillow as the other student left the room. Pepper would be shitting bricks right about now. Sitting up he grabbed the discarded pair of sleep pants from the floor and slipped into them.

"Harry?" A sleep filled voice murmured behind him, a slender arm reaching around his waist. "Where are you going?"

Sighing, the young wizard leaned back and gave the brunette in his bed a lingering kiss. "It's nothing, Sophie; go back to sleep."

She hummed and wrapped the blankets back around her nude form, turning onto her side and falling right back asleep. Harry was grumbling under his breath as he grabbed his wand and holster and exited his dorm room.

Padding barefoot down the hall, he was glowering when joined the handful of Formula 1 racing fans spread out through the common room.

"Dude, was that Sophie Johansen I saw in your bed?"

"Seriously? Sophie? Man, that bitch is cold!" One of the other boys jeered.

Harry scowled. "That 'bitch' could kick your ass while doing her nails, Truman. Now shut your mouth before I tell her you said that." He smiled sweetly at his floor-mate.

The boy held up his hand in surrender and chuckled. "Shutting up."

"Good, now if you assholes have got me out of bed at this ungodly hour just to comment on my bed partner, so help me, Warren-"

"Yeah, yeah, you'll kick _my_ ass," the senior waved off the threat and motioned to the large screen T.V. on the wall. "See for yourself."

The camera was focused on the Billionaire as he was handed a helmet. Tony slipped it on easily and - was he looking pale? Harry frowned as his father's face disappeared behind the protective gear, his eyes and nose the only part now visible through the upraised visor. The eyes turned to the camera and Harry felt his heart accelerate.

"What the fuck is he thinking?" he muttered, absently strapping the holster to his arm.

"You really need your wand in the dorm, Stark?" Another boy, Jackson, asked.

Harry secured the leather with a shrug. "You try being kidnapped and see if you're not more comfortable with it on you all the time."

The students shared a look and a fourth, Cain, nodded. "Point."

"Did you know he was going to do this?" the last one, Valen, asked Harry, gesturing to the television.

"Not a clue," Harry admitted with a frown. "I doubt he did either. He's lacking on the impulse control these days."

"No shit," Truman chuckled.

The race started and the cars sped onto the track. Harry felt his pulse pounding and his palms were sweating; he couldn't shake the feeling bad things were about to happen. The live feed kept on the cars, cutting away to different angles and views and locations across the course.

The lead cars were just coming into the harbor area, speeding by the grandstands and yachts moored in the Monte Carlo Harbour, when the camera suddenly zeroed in on an orange jumpsuit clad man walking onto the track.

"Is that guy suicidal?" Cain asked lowly.

Harry watched the scene happening six thousand miles away with a growing sense of... wrong. One car barely swerved and missed the man as he positioned himself in the center of the track and started walking into oncoming traffic. Chin length hair fell free as the man shoved the white helmet off his head and tore the front of his jumpsuit open.

A sharp intake of air had the other boys turning to look at Harry but the youngest Stark only had eyes for the glowing orb situated on the man's chest.

"No," he shook his head, watching as sparking cables extended from the man's arms and his jump suit started on fire. "No no no..."

"Harry, man, you okay?" Warren asked, ignoring the drama on the screen only to be drawn back to it when the other's cried out in alarm.

Harry could only stare as the... whips of lightning sliced through the front of the Hammer Tech car, sending it end over end in a horrifying twist of sparks and metal. His heart was racing inside his chest and he couldn't breathe; it felt like the world was pressing in around him.

The cameras panned to the panicking crowds as they fled the scene and then one found the next oncoming racer. Blue and white paint blurred through the shot but it was enough for Harry. The Stark vehicle was speeding toward a madman that had already taken out one racer.

He couldn't hear himself muttering 'no' over and over again, praying to anyone listening that he was wrong. But he wasn't and he could only watch - and wish for someone to help his father - as the psycho on the track pulled back his arms and snapped the Arc powered whip across the front of his Tony's car.

And then he suddenly wasn't just watching anymore.

A thunderous clap echoed around him and the dim light of the dorm common room was suddenly replaced by the glaring Mediterranean sun. He was standing behind the man in the harness, watching as his father's car went tumbling and crashing into the course barrier.

When the guy started stalking toward the downed car, Harry didn't hesitate. Ignoring the blood tricking from one ear, he flexed his arm and brought down his wand. _"Depulso!"_

The banishing charm threw the crazy bastard head over heels away from his father. Harry was moving before Psycho had hit the wall, bolting past the dazed man and toward the upturned car. Behind him he could hear the squealing of tires, crunching of metal, and felt the sudden flash of heat. None of it mattered though as he ran across the debris field and slid to a stop next to the Stark car.

"Dad!"

Tony's helmet was gone and he was bloodied and staring at his son in a mix of confusion and horror. "Harry? What -"

"Hang on," Harry gasped, a sudden wave of dizziness washing over him. He shook his head to clear it and aimed his wand at the harness holding Tony in place. "_Diffindo!_"

Tony hit the ground and Harry moved to help him when he heard the crackle behind him. He turned, raising his hands before him protectively, an instant before the energy whip slashed across the dome shield he summoned.

He flinched with the blow, falling to his knees, and the shield flickered.

"Vhat is this?" The man sneered in a familiar Russian lilt. He swung and stuck the dome a second time and again Harry felt it as readily as if it had struck him. The shield blinked in and out before coming back full force just in time for a third strike. "Who seeks to save you, Stark?"

With tilting vision, Harry sneered up at the man towering over them. "Fuck off, asshole!" He pushed out with his hands, growling against the pain in his chest, and expanded the dome. It struck the man and sent him flying back several yards where he hit the pavement hard.

Harry pitched to the side and would have hit the ground himself if his father hadn't caught him. "Shit, Harry! What they hell are you doing here?!"

"Accidental apparation," he gasped as a sharp pain lanced through his chest. "I think. Haven't done that since I was nine... and not six thousand miles across the globe."

Tony dragged him to the side of the track, sitting him up against the barrier with part of a car shielding him. "Stay here."

Harry watched his father pick up a large piece of metal and started for the psycho that was lurching to his feet. The man staggered when the metal crashed against the side of his head but recovered quickly and knocked the metal sheet out of Tony's hand with the energy whip. Tony was knocked to the ground and barely managed to roll out of the second whip as it came striking down beside him. Crawling backward, he evaded two more strikes of the whips, but as he got to his feet to run a strike at the pavement right behind him had Harry's father hurtling into the remains of another car.

Pushing past the aches and pain and utter exhaustion he felt, Harry forced himself to his feet just as Tony slid to the ground. Psycho was gaining on him, spinning and cracking the whips against the pavement in a shower of sparks. A second later, Tony was leaping out of the way of the energy whip that came down right into a puddle of leaking gasoline. The car exploded, sending Tony tumbling, but the man was on his feet a moment later.

Harry took a few steps away from the barrier and lifted his wand at Psycho's back. "Hey, douche bag! Get the fuck away from my Dad!"

Psycho turned to him and Harry shouted, _"Expulso!" _The curse stuck true, hitting the replicated Arc Reactor dead on.

Crying out in a shower of flames and spark that enveloped him, Psycho was thrown by the force of the blast. He landed on his back on the debris littered street and didn't move; a ragged burn on his chest where the reactor once rested.

Breathing hard, Harry met his father's stunned face through the flames of the burning car. With a trembling arm he lowered his wand, instinctively tucking it back into its holster, as he heard the squealing of tires stop a few yards behind him. As the ground suddenly came up to meet him, the last thing he heard was Pepper screaming his name.

* * *

(1) - Iron Man 2: Public Identity, Issue One


	8. Tastes Like Coconut, Part Two

**Chapter Eight: Tastes Like Coconut, Part Two**

**May 23, 2010**

**Monte Carlo, Monaco**

"He's going to be fine."

Tony wasn't the only one who released a breath of relief. Pepper was as familiar with this feeling as he was; waiting by his unconscious son's bedside waiting for the Doctor - or Healer in this case - to tell them if Harry would be okay or not.

Harry had just... crumpled.

Like a marionette without its strings, he had hit the ground so fast and hard that Tony had heard it even over the crackling of the flames. Happy had gotten to the teenager first, not even pausing as he scooped up the boy and carried him back to the Rolls Royce. Pepper had climbed in the back first and allowed Harry's head to be laid out on her lap. Tony hadn't even been given the chance to get into the front seat with Happy before they were driving off with Tony's son.

Never in his life had Tony felt so useless and superfluous.

By the time Tony had cleared the scene with Monaco Police and race officials, he was half mad with worry over his son. People were screaming questions at him as he was dropped off at the Hotel Hermitage and hurried into the building. Natalie was waiting for him and quickly directed him to an elevator she had cued to take them up to the seventh floor.

Pepper had been busy. As soon as she had Harry in the car she was calling Dr. Pharr back in San Francisco. The man had his own issues to deal with - something about the sudden collapsing of all the school wards - but had told her that he would send a trusted associate of his from Paris. She was a Healer, practising strictly Magic Medicine, but would be more than capable of caring for Harry.

The Healer, a statuesque blonde with features one would expect from a high fashion model, was already tending to Harry when Tony was directed into the master bedroom of the Presidential Suite. The bright, afternoon sun spilling in through the open windows accentuated the waxy complexion of his son. Happy had closed the door behind Tony, keeping the bodyguard and Natalie out of the room while the Witch examined Harry.

Tony slumped into a chair that he had turned to face the bed, uncaring of the soot and grime from his drive suit transferring to the fabric of the chair. Pepper stood off to the side of the bed, fidgeting anxiously while they waited for the verdict.

Slowly the wand had lowered and the Healer turned to Pepper. "He's going to be fine." The voice was strong, only slightly accented, and not what Tony had been expecting from the woman. She looked over at him, having ignored him when he had entered. "Monsieur Stark, I presume? I am Healer Delacour. Can you tell me what happened? Mademoiselle Potts was unable to give me the specifics."

"He was just... there."Tony rubbed his hand worriedly over his mouth an goatee. "One second he wasn't there and then he just appeared and proceeded to fight the guy trying to kill me."

She nodded knowingly, reaching for a travelling bag on the bedside table. "Accidental Apparation; not very common in a wizard your son's age, but not entirely unheard of. He must have been very afraid for you, Monsieur Stark. I'm assuming he was watching the race from this hotel room?"

"San Francisco," Pepper answered concisely. "He was in his school dorm common room with friends when he vanished; ripped right through their wards."

Healer Delacour nearly dropped the jar she had retrieved from inside the bag. "Oh mon Dieu! He - from America?! Incroyable!"

"Stark." Tony mumbled, still staring at the unmoving for of his son.

The woman glanced between the two adults then looked back at Harry. She held her wand over him again and ran it from head to toe. She was frowning. "It would explain the readings I am getting. His core was completely exhausted when I first ran the scan and yet, only minutes later, it is already beginning to replenish. You claim he apparated more than six thousand kilometres?"

"Nine thousand, six hundred and fifty six if you want to be exact," Tony quickly computed. "Other side of the country; California."

"Oh mon Dieu!" She stared in awe at the teenager before visibly collecting herself and regaining her professional air. "As I stated, his core is - was completely exhausted. Even though it is, apparently, regenerating as we speak I would suggest he refrain from any magic for the next seventy-two hours. That includes portkey and floo travel. He bears no other injuries other than the cuts to the soles of his feet. This salve," she held up the jar, "will not heal them completely, as his condition has been seen by the Muggles, but will do so in a day or two."

There was a soft knock at the door and Happy poked his head in. "Sir, Miss Potts; a Mister Richard Lincoln, the American Consul General from Marseille, and the representative from the M.U.A, a Mister Armand Roberts, are here. They'd like to speak with you both."

The pair exchanged a hesitant glance before Healer Delacour decided for them. "Go. I shall treat your son's feet and clean him up a bit. I will join you in a few moments to discuss maintaining his dressings."

In the living room of the suite, Natalie was gesturing to the men to sit on one of the sofas, asking them politely if they would like anything to drink. When they declined, she nodded and moved to the side of the room.

"Happy, Natalie, would you mind stepping out into the Hall please?" Pepper asked wearily as she sat primly in the other sofa. Once the pair were out of hearing, the doors shut behind them, the Stark Industries C.E.O. was all business. "I'm assuming, gentlemen, that you are here in regards to Harry's unprecedented breach of the Statute?"

"First off," Mr. Roberts said, a bald, athletic man in a dark grey suit, "let me assure you both that young Mr. Stark is not in any trouble. The M.U.A. office in D.C. had been notified within minutes of your son tearing through the wards at C.A.S.S. We know it was an accident and it was done in defence of his family. There will be no legal repercussions from his actions when he gets home."

"That's not to say, however," the other man, older and with a slight paunch belly, continued gravely, "that there won't be trouble with the local Magical Authorities."

"What kind of trouble are we talking about?" Tony asked with a scowl. If anyone dared anything...

"This kind of breach is dealt with rather heavy-handedly in Europe," Mr. Lincoln explained with a frown of his own. "Accidental or not, it carries a minimum of two years in prison, the offender's magic bound and their wand snapped. There is no leeway. The only saving grace is that your son is an American citizen."

"Even if I can clean it up?" Tony's heart was pounding behind the reactor in his chest. This was his fault, he knew that, and he had to fix it before it got his son taken away from him! He took hold of the pad that Pepper had knowingly held out to him and began tapping and typing and instructing J.A.R.V.I.S. on what needed to happen in the next few minutes.

"How?" Mr. Roberts queried. "The fight between your son and the man trying to kill you was broadcasted internationally, Mr. Stark. Live. There's no covering up the things he did. We're just lucky that none of the cameras, that we know of, had caught his sudden arrival on the scene; they were all focused on you at the time."

Pepper was smiling a little. "Believe me, Gentlemen, no one is better at explaining away the impossible like Tony Stark. Give him fifteen minutes and he'll have _you_ believing the story he's concocted."

...

**May 23, 2010**

**Hogwarts, Scotland**

"Well? Was it him?"

The man was waiting for Albus when he stepped out of the floo and waved his wand over his robes, silently vanishing the soot from the fabric. He repressed a sigh of exasperation, telling himself that he needed the man to find the true child of prophecy. "Tell me again what your tracking spells alerted you to this afternoon."

James Potter didn't bother hiding his sigh and resumed the pacing he had been doing before Albus returned. "Shortly after one I felt the Magic spike. A few seconds later it did so again. By the time I got back to the manor the tracking spell had lost it and only recorded the locations: American West Coast and Southern France. Both were within seconds of each other and didn't make sense. Even an International Portkey takes several minutes to travel. These spikes were less than five seconds apart."

"Like Apparation." Dumbledore murmured to himself and moved to take the seat behind his desk. "The report I received from the I.C.W. investigators has evidence that the young wizard who breached the Statute did so by Apparating from California to Monaco."

"That's impossible!" The Potter patriarch shook his head. "No one is that powerful, not even you!"

"Quite right," Albus tried not to bristle at the statement. "However, the investigators tracked the apparation trail and do not have any other explanation for their findings. There is no doubt that this boy has done the impossible."

"So he's been arrested?" James asked with a frown. "The French laws regarding the Statute are like our own."

"The boy is protected." Dumbledore just managed to keep the scowl off his face. "Before the French Aurors or the I.C.W. Investigators arrived on the scene, the Americans had already released a statement to the Muggle Press explaining the things the boy did in front of their cameras as some new form of experimental technology. The man raising him, a Muggle, is well known among the Muggles as an inventor of such devices and weapons - quite famous and infamous as well, I've been told - and he has influence inside both Muggle and Magical governments."

"My son is being raised by a Muggle?" James gaped. "Albus, I won't stand for it! We have to do something, now!"

The ancient wizard raised a hand placatingly. "I have people getting me all the information they can about the boy and the man who has custody of him. But right now, legally you can't touch the boy."

"Why can't I contest the adoption?" James demanded. "He carries the Potter Magic; there can be no doubt that he is my son! That Muggle has no right to be raising a Wizarding child in the first place let alone my son!"

"You must give me time, James." Dumbledore said soothingly, let his magic bleed into his words to calm the aggravated man. "We don't know to what extent Lily went to hide your son from you. I will know everything there is to know about this man, Stark, by the end of tomorrow. We will be able to plan once we know more."

Getting up from his chair and walking around the desk, Albus placed a hand on the man's shoulder. "I promise you, James: We will get your son back."

...

**May 23, 2010**

**Monte Carlo, Monaco**

The smell of sea water was different than what he was use too coming off the South Basin. Add in that his bed was moving slightly and Harry was pretty sure that he wasn't in his bed in his dorm. Laughter and low voices could be heard on the breeze that wafted in through a window over his head, as well as the gentle lapping of water against fibreglass. Yeah, definitely not in San Francisco.

A delicate hand ran up his bare chest and he realized he wasn't alone in the bed. A soft, curved body molded itself to his side with one leg draping over his thigh and settling between his legs. He opened his eyes and grinned when Sophie's heart-shaped face greeted him. Before he could say anything she leaned down and covered his lips with her own. Their mouths moved in tandem and he let his palm rest on the back of her bare upper leg, just below the curve of the bikini bottoms she wore. The kiss was heated and he felt another part of him beginning to wake up.

She apparently did as well as she giggled and pulled back. "I'm supposed to wake you up."

Licking his lips he smiled and practically purred, "Best. Wake up call. Ever. Where are we?"

"A yacht in Monte Carlo Harbour." She grinned wickedly at him, an slender finger tracing the lines of his abs. "The M.U.A. portkeyed a bunch of us over after your disappearing act this morning. Something about keeping the Statue of Secrecy secret a little bit longer."

He frowned and pushed her back just enough so he could sit up a little. "So that wasn't just some fucked up dream?"

She shook her head, her short brunette hair bouncing with the movement. "Nope. Your magic ripped through the school wards and you Apparated six thousand miles away from San Francisco."

"Where I proceeded to cast magic on international television," He moaned and flopped back onto the mattress, pulling a pillow over his head. "Fuck me!"

"If you insist." Giggling accompanied her soft lips pressing into his chest a couple of times while her hand slid down his torso and tugged at the waistband of his sleep pants.

"If I knew you were going to wake him up by molesting him I could have done that."

Harry shifted the pillow over his face and saw Drew leaning casually against the frame of the door to the cabin with an amused smirk on his face. Sophie huffed and withdrew from Harry's side, sliding her bikini-clad body off the bed. She flipped her middle finger up at the older boy as she made her way back onto deck.

Drew chuckled and jerked his head out the door. "Your Healer had said you'd be all right to wake up about now. And your Dad would like to talk to you before he takes off."

Groaning and wanting nothing more than to suffocate himself with the pillow he held, Harry reluctantly got out of bed. His body was incredibly sore, like the morning after he had run his first ten miles with Mr. Filch. Muscles he had forgotten he had burned and the bottom of his feet, wrapped in thick padded bandages, ached. He was, however, pleased to see his wand and holster on the nightstand and grabbed it before following his friend out of the master cabin and up onto deck.

The yacht was descent size, an Azimut Grande with a length of at least a hundred feet. It was spacious and luxurious, affording the passengers privacy below deck should they want it and a party atmosphere above. Tony was lounging, alone, on a cushioned seat in the moonlight on the upper deck while more than a dozen teenagers moved about the rest of the deck. Harry recognized all of them; the five boys that had been in the common room with him as well as several others from their floor and a few of their girlfriends.

As Harry joined his father, he could make out the mass of media and paparazzi on shore. He automatically turned his back to them only to falter when he saw the unamused expression on Tony's face.

"Doesn't matter anymore, Harry," Tony said with a frown. "They've had your picture running on every media outlet across the globe for more than eight hours. Even J.A.R.V.I.S. can't keep up with the millions of uploads and downloads happening per minute on the web. Your face is out there now; there's no taking it back this time."

Harry couldn't stop the cringe and slumped onto the bench down from Tony. "Dad, I-"

"I've spent your entire life keeping you out of the press," Tony continued coolly. "I did it because I wanted to keep you safe and protected from the vultures."

"I know that," Harry said quietly, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. "It's not like I planned this. It just... happened."

Tony sighed and slid down the bench to sit next to his son. "I know, Harry. And, honestly, I'm not angry. I knew it would happen sooner or later, but-" He huffed. "Did you have to reveal yourself to the press so dramatically? There's no way I'm going to be able to top that! I mean, come on! Fighting a madman in nothing but a pair of pyjama pants?! Who does that?!"

Chuckling, Harry leaned into his father's frame and let his head rest on the man's shoulder. He'd miss this. God, he missed his Dad! He smiled when Tony's arm snaked around his back and squeezed him in a one-armed hug. They sat in a companionable silence for the first time in a long time, but finally Harry had to ask, "What did the Healer say? Drew mentioned one-"

"You completely exhausted your core," Tony informed him. "It was recharging at a rate she had never seen before, but she insisted on no magic, period, for at least three days. That means no portkey back to California."

Harry frowned. "I'm not taking the jet back."

"You know I've completely gutted the plane and had it redesigned." Tony reminded him gently with another comforting squeeze. "No more dancer's pole."

"I remember, I just..." Harry shrugged, not willing to discuss his irrational fear of his father's private plane.

"That's fine, Harry, you don't have to," Tony assured him with a soft kiss to the top of his head. "You and your friends will be staying here - with Happy, of course - until you're able to take the International Portkey back to C.A.S.S. where you will stay for the last few days of the semester."

Harry winced a little. "So how much trouble am I in?"

"Surprisingly very little," Tony told him with an air of amusement. "The official story is that you and your friends took an unauthorized extended long weekend from school to celebrate the last of your finals. You chartered a plane and flew them out here where you rented this boat to watch the race and party for a few days. You didn't know I was here and vice-versa. When things happened as they did, you leaped to your father's defence with a piece of Stark Tech that, unfortunately, has to go back to the drawing board because of the previously undiscovered yet obvious adverse affects it had on you. J.A.R.V.I.S. has been able to add digitally created footage of you running onto the track to what little video footage there was of your sudden appearance. Luckily it's all been amateur videos so it's been easy to manipulate. He's been a very busy little Artificial Intelligence. Make sure you thank him when you get home."

"So no breach of the Statute?"

Tony shook his head. "Not here, at least. Back in San Francisco, however... When you went through the wards you caused a cascading effect. They collapsed fifteen minutes after you were gone and for about an hour San Francisco suddenly had a new square mile of property the Baselines hadn't been aware of."

Harry winced. "Shit."

"Hmmm, indeed. That said, they were able to get the wards back up and, since it was so early in the morning there, hardly anyone noticed. A couple of memory charms later and all is well at C.A.S.S. once more."

"So I'm good?" Harry queried anxiously.

"Everyone knows it was an accident and you were defending your family." Tony kissed his head. "On their end, yeah you're good. On my end, however..."

"What?" Harry sat up suddenly and turned to his father in surprise. "You're mad at me?!"

Tony was frowning again. "I'm livid, Harry. You could have gotten yourself killed!"

"And what about you?!" Harry demanded, his voice raising unintentionally with his ire. "I was just suppose to stand aside while that mother fucker tried to kill you?"

"I would have been fine," Tony insisted. "Happy and Pepper were on their way with the Case Suit."

"So it's okay for Happy and Pepper to risk their safety and lives for you, but not me?"

"You're my son, they're not, so I'm going to have to go with: Yes!"

"No! That's not - Are you insane?! I was there! I could've helped! Fuck that, I did help! I stopped him from hurting you or anyone else!"

"And you nearly killed yourself!"

"Oh my god, you are such a hypocrite!" Harry yelled, bounding to his feet, and the sounds of partying below went silent. "You rush headlong into dangerous and life threatening situations every chance you get with no regard for me or what would happen to me if you didn't come back! I did it once - unintentionally mind you - to save your goddamn life and you're pissed at me! Well fuck that! You don't get to be mad!"

Tony stared up at him with wide eyes. "I don't?"

"You've been doing crazy, reckless shit for months! It's like you're trying to finish the job that the Stane started; like you want to die! "Harry jabbed his finger in his father's face. "That shit stops now! You want to be mad at anyone for this goddamn mess? That's on you. You were stupid enough to put yourself in the race when you had no business being there! If you hadn't, I wouldn't have freaked and my magic wouldn't have reacted and broken every known law to both physics and magic!"

"So, here's the way things are going to work now, old man." Harry crossed his arms over his bare chest and stared down at Tony with an evil little smirk. "You do any crazy shit like you did today and I'll be there right beside you to pull your ass our of the fire. I'll put a tracking charm on you while you sleep and every piece of every Iron Man Suit and I will dog you no matter where you go. I will be right beside you when you're rescuing stranded Sports Illustrated models or blowing up shit in the Middle East. I will be chucking every spell I know at the same terrorist sons of bitches you go after."

"Like hell you will!" Tony leapt to his feet and tried to tower over his son, but Harry wasn't that much shorter than him anymore.

Harry stepped toe to toe with the older man. "Try me."

The teenagers below cheered, not bothering to hide the fact that they were listening to the arguing father and son.

"I'll... You'll..." Tony's mouth open and closed and his eyes couldn't have gotten any wider if he tried. In the back of his mind Harry was aware of the flashes of paparazzi cameras from the shore but they mattered little at the moment. Seeing is father's apoplectic expression was totally worth it.

Suddenly wrapping his arms around his Dad, Harry hugged the man tight. A stunned moment later, Tony was returning the embrace with a wry chuckle. "God, you really are my kid."

"Through and through," Harry muttered, closing his eyes and sighing. "I'm serious though, Dad; you can't keep doing this shit. I thought I lost you last year, I can't go through that again."

Tony's body stiffened noticeably and carefully pried Harry off him. He cleared his throat awkwardly, a sure sign that he was hiding something, causing the younger Stark to frown. Before Harry could say anything, Happy poked his head up the stairwell.

"Sorry to interrupt, Sir, Harry, but Miss Potts is waiting for you in the car, Mr. Stark. If you wanted to make that stop before heading on to the airport-"

"Right. Thanks Happy, I'll be right there." Tony clapped Harry on the shoulder and kissed his son's forehead. "I've got to go. Be good, have fun, no magic, and next time you can introduce me to the brunette number that won the coin flip to go wake you up."

Harry was still standing there, lost in thought, as the sedan carrying his father and Aunty P disappeared into the city of Monte Carlo. He was glowering at nothing in particular when Sophie climbed up the stairs and wrapped her arms around his waist. She was still only wearing a very skimpy bikini and he was very aware of her womanly attributes pressing into his side.

The petite girl lifted herself onto her tip toes and kissed him on the cheek, setting off another round of flashing from the paparazzi gathered on the street. "You're brooding."

He smiled affectionately and let his arm drape around her shoulder while he kissed her long and slow on the lips. When he drew back the flashes of the camera were still going crazy. He smirked at her. "And you're posing, Sophie."

She shrugged unapologetically and smiled back at him. "Tell me something: why are you up here alone and all broody when there is an unlocked liquor cabinet and a hot tub full of your friends and bedmates downstairs? Drew and I were getting lonely."

"Just thinking," he told her. He just didn't say that he was thinking about whatever it was his father was hiding. Harry knew it was something big, he just couldn't figure out what.

"Well, stop it." Her hand lifted and she flicked him in the nose. "Go downstairs, grab your swim trunks from the clothes we brought over with us, and have some fun. Whatever drama you Starks are dealing with can wait until I am not half drunk and horny."

Harry threw his head back and laughed.

...

**May 24, 2010**

**Malibu, California**

"He's downstairs."

It had been a long time since he'd been angry with the man. With everything the man had gone through last year with his kidnapping and then that of his son, Colonel Rhodes had given Tony a lot of leeway but that had to end now. The mess they were dealing with now was on a whole new level.

Stalking down the stairs he jabbed his code into the panel and opened the door to the workshop. Tony was sitting in the hotrod with several screens projected before him. Rhodey couldn't see exactly what was displayed on them, but they didn't matter.

"Tony, you've got to get upstairs and get on top of this right away." When the man didn't move, Rhodey let the door shut behind him as he made his way into the shop. "Listen; I've been on the phone with the National Guard all day, trying to talk them out of rolling tanks up the P.C.H., knocking down your front door, and taking these. They're going to take your suits, Tony, Okay? They're sick of the games!"

Now standing behind Tony, Rhodey was afforded a better view of the screens. All of them was showing images of Harry. Video feeds of Harry's fight with Vanko; pictures of the teenager unconscious and being carried by Happy; more images of Harry laughing and hanging out with his friends on the yacht. There were literally hundreds of the last ones scrolling across the display.

But there was one little screen off to the side that had Rhodey's attention. There was a picture of Vanko and information on the man, as well as the LA Times article about his death during his attempted escape from prison earlier this morning.

"You said nobody else would possess this technology for twenty years." Rhodey approached the unresponsive man, hoping to draw him out of his reverie. "Well, guess what? Somebody else had it yesterday. It's not theoretical anymore."

Coming around the side of the hotrod, Rhodey finally got a good look at his friend. Tony was a sickly looking mess. He was pale, his skin was speckled with beads of sweat, his eyes were glassy with fever. But it was the tears that pooled at the edges of those eyes that caught Rhodey's attention. He reached out and placed a hand on the man's shoulder. "Tony?"

"Look at him, Rhodey," Tony said in barely a whisper. "He's been in the press for less than a day and already they love him." The images continued to scroll. "They're calling him a hero and... god, just look at him!" One by one the images changed. Pictures of Harry arguing with Tony on the yacht, Harry kissing a pretty little brunette, another of him dancing rather provocatively with the tall blonde boy that had been with Harry for more than a year now.

"I'm not even dead yet and they've got their new favorite Stark..."

Rhodey jerked where he stood at that statement, one that was spoken so quiet he wasn't even sure if he had actually heard it. Keeping his hand on Tony's shoulder, the military man crouched down to look him in the eye. "Tony, are you okay?"

Jerking away from the friendly touch, Tony lurched from the car and crawled out of the opposite door. Rhodey didn't like the way he was moving so moved to follow him. He was glad he did when Tony's legs buckled beneath him and was only saved from kissing the floor by Rhodey's quick reflexes.

"Hey, are you all right?" he asked Tony as he helped him to stand.

"Yeah," Tony gasped. "I should get to my desk."

Putting his arm around Tony's waist, Rhodey helped him hobble to the work station only a few yards away. Even that short distance had the inventor panting and sweating like he'd just ran a marathon.

"See that cigar box?" Tony pointed out to James as he helped Tony into the chair. "It's palladium."

As in the stuff that was powering the reactor in his chest. Worry flooded through Rhodey as he opened the box and watched as tony removed the reactor from his body. He blanched when he saw the smoke rising from it. "Is that suppose to be smoking?"

"If you must know, it's neutron damage. It's from the reactor wall."

He had a vague inkling of what that meant and it wasn't a good thing. He took the opened reactor from Tony's trembling hand and gingerly pulled the still smoking palladium chip from the device. "You had this in your body?" He asked with growing unease.

Tony just stared at him a moment before taking the new palladium chip and the casing from him, turning his back to Rhodey as he replaced the device in his chest.

Rhodey's unease grew into all out dread when he saw the strange markings the visible skin of his friend's body. "And how about the high-tech crossword puzzle on your neck?"

"Road rash."

It was a practised answer; one for a question Tony knew would be asked if anyone had seen the unusual tracks on his skin. Alarms were blaring inside Rhodey's mind and he knew - he just knew! - that something was very wrong with his friend. He just couldn't figure out what and he didn't like it.

"What are you looking at?" Tony grumbled and opened the thermos of some unappealing green liquid.

"I'm looking at you," Rhodey replied honestly, not bothering to hid the concern in his voice. "You want to do this whole lone gun-slinger act and its unnecessary. You've got me and Pepper and Harry. Shit, Tony! Your son crossed the globe in an instant because he was scared for you. He exhausted himself in every way possible to stop Vanko. Doesn't that tell you something? Don't you get it? You don't have to do this alone!"

"You know, I wish I could believe that," Tony glanced at Rhodey over his shoulder. "I really do. But you've got to trust me. Contrary to popular belief, I know exactly what I'm doing."

And that, right there, was what Rhodey was afraid of.

...

**May 25, 2010**

**Hogwarts, Scotland**

Sirius Black stood with his best friend as they both waited eagerly inside Dumbledore's office. James' dark Auror robes were billowing out behind him as he nervously paced the length of the room. They weren't alone, as Albus' trusted spy was sitting casually in a chair in front of the ornate desk. Severus Snape appeared quite bored with the proceedings.

"Sorry for keeping you, Gentlemen," the headmaster said as he entered the room a moment later. "End of term shenanigans with the fifth and seventh years; I'm sure you're all too familiar with those yourselves, Severus, Sirius."

The potion master just rolled his eyes while the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor just smirked. Sirius had surprised everyone when he accepted the placement two years ago. With the curse rumored on the job no one had expected the wounded Hit Wizard to remain. However, the Head of the House of Black had somehow defied the odds and returned for a second year even after the Healers gave him a clean bill of health.

"Now, Severus," Albus turned to the dour Slytherin when he had taken the seat behind his desk. "You had something to report from Voldemort?"

"He has an interest in the American boy," Severus told them with his typical bored tone. "He had heard rumors of what happened and sent several of his people to investigate further. He has liked what has been reported back to him and plans on making an overture to the boy sometime this summer."

James growled. "That snake-faced bastard isn't getting anywhere near my son!"

Severus sneered at the Auror. "He's not your son, Potter. Not according to Muggle Law or the Americans. From what was reported to the Dark Lord, Stark and his son are practically royalty to the Americans. Both Muggle and Magical."

Albus nodded knowingly. "It's as I've discovered as well." He turned to James with a frown. "Harry Stark is the Muggle's son in every way that matters to both worlds. The elder Stark's name is on the boy's birth certificate, though the mother's name is listed as Elizabeth Jade Stark.

"Elizabeth was the name she used when we were looking for a suitable donor," James informed them.

Sirius tried not to cringe, and failed. He was a pureblood; he knew exactly what kind of donor James and Lily had been looking for. It was why Sirius had never married and never planned on any children of his own. He had loathed everything about being a Black and he would not perpetuate the cycle by having the cursed family magic carry on in his own progeny. It had been a point of contention between the two best friends sixteen years ago and again after James had married his German wife.

"I have also found," Albus continued, "a record of a paternity test done shortly after the boy's birth. The I.C.W. will not support you if you try to contest the boy's custody. He may possess the Potter Magic, but he is not your son, James."

"Bullshit!" The man roared. "Lily was my wife and she was carrying my child! He has my Family's Magic, Albus!"

Sirius reached out and placed a hand on his friend's arm. "The blood rite was not completed, James. This boy - Harry? - was never your son and he never will be. You have to accept that. I thought you had when you married Jana and had Jimmy."

"Jimmy is my blood heir, but not Heir to the Potter Magic." James insisted.

"Then fix that," Severus sneered. "Disown the Stark brat magically and the Family Magic will go to your hell spawn."

"Severus," Albus scolded gently.

James hesitated for a moment before shaking his head fiercely. "No. Harry is my son; I won't give him up! Especially to some Muggle!"

Sirius sighed and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "What do you propose to do, James? Kidnap the kid from America and complete the blood rite?"

"If I have to."

The three other men stared at James Potter and the intensity of the man's face. Sirius frowned inwardly when he glanced over at Albus and saw the brief satisfaction in the aged wizard's eyes. There was something else going on here.

"Perhaps it won't come to that, James," Albus cajoled. "The I.C.W. is most interested in young Mr. Stark and so are most of the other governments. Already they are making requests of the Americans to meet with the boy and witness for themselves what he is capable of. Perhaps I can arrange it for you to meet him in the coming days and you can talk to him."

James nodded and Sirius frowned. He didn't like this one bit, and judging by the scowl on Snape's face he realized the spy didn't either.

...

**May 27, 2010**

**San Francisco, California**

"Dan, do you have a moment?"

Harry sometimes wondered what it was about the man that he trusted so much. Dan Filch had been his instructor for almost a year but other than the fact that the man was a Baseline, Harry didn't really know much about him. From their first tumultuous meeting last August, Dan had quickly made himself a feature in Harry's life. After Lawrence... well, he couldn't help but question the wisdom of letting the unknown man get that close to him. He took solace knowing that Dan wouldn't be able to be inside the wards if his intention toward Harry were anything but above board.

Still, in the months since his kidnapping Harry found himself turning more and more to the teacher for advise and just to talk to. With Tony pulling away from Harry, and everyone else trying to keep the Billionaire from self destructing, Harry had been pretty much left on his own. Except for Dan.

Hell, he was even on a first name basis with the teacher!

"Sure, Harry." Inside the Non-Magical Defense office, Dan set aside the last of his grading and motioned to a chair. "What's up?"

Walking the distance from the door to the desk, Harry nervously clutched at the envelope in his hand before offering it to the teacher. Dan looked at it with a curious frown and accepted the letter. Harry took the seat and chewed on his lower lip anxiously while the man flipped through the correspondence.

As he read his eyebrows rose toward his hairline. "Harry, this is a letter of Early Admissions to New York University! I didn't know you applied!"

"I didn't," he admitted, sitting on his hands to keep from fidgeting. "They're headhunting. They're offering to fast track the last of high schooling over the summer and the fall term. After Christmas, they want to have me enrolled on their Magical Campus with a major of my choosing but with a paid internship in their Arcane Science Department to explore the extend of my abilities. They're willing to _pay_ me to go to school there and I'm not even done high school yet!"

"You're already more than a year ahead of the rest in your age group; it wouldn't be hard to finish. Harry, this is incredible!" Dan exclaimed with a smile, only for it to falter when he saw the panicked expression Harry knew was on his face. "Why aren't you excited about this?"

"I am!" He insisted, albeit a little flatly. "Sort of. I just - I never thought about leaving California. I always assumed I'd finish here then move over to the Arcane Science Department at Stanford and work with Dad. And, now that he's given up his position as C.E.O., I'm suppose to take over from Pepper when I'm twenty-one."

Dan set the papers aside and leaned back in his chair. "Is that what you want to do, or just what's expected of you?"

"A little bit of both." Harry confessed. "Maybe a lot more of the second one though. I mean, don't get me wrong I love seeing what Dad and the other engineers are cooking up at S.I., but I'm not an inventor. Or a scientist. And I sure as hell don't have a brain for business."

"What do you have a brain for?" The educator prompted.

"Medicine." Seeing the other man's surprised look, Harry shrugged with embarrassment. "I started studying human anatomy after Dad came back last year. The reactor in his chest: it's not just to power the Iron Man Suit. It's keeping him alive. There's shrapnel from an explosion he was caught in really close to his heart. The reactor is powering a magnet that's keeping those bits of metal from moving into the heart and killing him."

Dan leaned forward and crossed his arms on the surface of the desk. "And you want to find a way to keep that from happening."

Harry nodded. "He almost died again in October when Stane stole the reactor right out of his body. It's his Achilles' Heel; without the reactor, he _will_ die. I've already asked Dr. Pharr and so far there's no procedure Magical or otherwise that could remove all the shrapnel without killing him. I want to change that."

The defence instructor was smiling. "I think it's a fantastic idea, Harry. And you've got to know that NYU has one of the top rated Medical Schools in the country."

"I know."

"It's a phenomenal opportunity," Dan pointed out.

"I'm not even sixteen yet," Harry retuned with a frown. "Do you really think, given how over protective he is, that my Dad will let me go to New York City on my own?"

"Do you want to go?"

Swallowing, Harry nodded. "I think so."

"Then you tell him that." Dan picked up the papers and held then out for Harry. "He may be distant right now Harry, but I promise you: If you talk to him, tell him this is what you really want, he'll let it happen."

...

**May 29, 2010**

**Malibu, California**

Thirty-six percent.

From fifty-three to eighty-nine percent in less than a week.

There was no stopping it now. Nothing Tony had tried was stopping the palladium in his chest from poisoning him. He had a day or two, at best, before the toxicity finally started shutting down his major organs. He was, honestly, surprised it hadn't already. Staring at the patchwork of veins expanding from the reactor, a myriad of red and blue and sickly green, Tony couldn't help but frown.

He had more than a hundred guests arriving even as he stood in front of the reflective surface J.A.R.V.I.S. created for him on the window. He had absolutely no desire to see any one of the sycophants he was meant to be entertaining for his birthday. His last birthday. Only thirty-nine and he was going to die.

"Live fast, die young and have a good-looking corpse," he muttered to himself.

God! He was really going to die!

He shouldn't be here.

There were still a million and one things that he wanted - that he needed to say and do but he wouldn't get the chance now.

Harry...

Tony's eyes clenched shut against the burning tears that started to blur his vision.

He'd screwed up.

Keeping his son at arm's length the last few months had been the biggest mistake of his life - what was left of it. In the beginning he'd been obsessed with making things right; with trying to take back the atrocities that Stane had created when he sold Stark weapons to the other side. But when he realized the reactor was poisoning him, Tony should have backed off. He should have taken Harry and disappeared. He should have spent what time he had remaining making sure his son knew...

And now it was too late.

He had pushed Harry too far away and even with the beginning of reconciliation made in Monaco, Tony couldn't just go to him and say: 'Hey, son; I'll be dead in two days. Let's go hang out!'

Tony was going to die and he was going to leave Harry.

"Do you know which watch you'd like to wear tonight, Mr Stark?"

He'd screwed up.

...

**May 30, 2010**

**San Francisco, California**

Graduation Day at C.A.S.S. was a spectacular event that began just after lunch and went on until the wee hours the morning. The cap and gown ceremony kicked everything off and would be followed by one hell of a party. It wasn't just for the seniors, but the entire school. It was the last day many of the students would see each other until the coming fall.

But the early morning was for last minute preparations and for extra sleep that would be needed to make it through the day. So it was that most of the students of the fifth floor of the boys dorm slept through the chiming of a phone from one of the rooms. It was the bellow that followed moments later that had nearly everyone down the north wing jolting from their slumber.

"He did what?!"

Harry flung the light blanket off his body and leapt from the bed, listening intently to the phone cradled between his shoulder and ear. He stalked to the closet and randomly grabbed some clothes. He slipped on a clean pair of briefs before sliding into a pair of boot-cut jeans.

"Was anyone hurt?" Harry slumped onto the edge of his bed, taking the phone in hand again and glancing over his shoulder when a hand touched his bare back. He gave the blond in his bed a soft smile and mouthed the word 'Sorry' to his bedmate. "And Uncle James just... Yeah, I can't say I blame him either. Aunty P's okay though?"

The hand trailed up his spine as Drew sat up and the graduating senior pressed in close to Harry's body. Warm lips nuzzled at his neck and Harry couldn't help but sigh at the pleasant ministration and his head automatically tilted to the side, giving the other boy unspoken permission. He closed his eyes when a strong arm curled around his chest, drawing them closer together.

"No, Happy, stay with Aunty P," Harry said as he tried to control his breathing when Drew's other hand cupped at the growing bulge in his pants. "Dad can take care of himself for right now; I'll talk to the Administration and see about getting an Emergency Portkey back to Malibu before the Ceremony this afternoon... Yeah, okay. Thanks for letting me know, Happy. I'll see you in a couple days."

He barely got 'good-bye' out before Drew was pulling the phone from his hand and tossing it onto the bedside table. Harry reached back with one arm, weaving his fingers into the older boy's hair. He turned his head and captured Drew's lips against his own. For a moment all else was forgotten as their lips and tongues danced and a strong hand continued its massage through heavy denim.

Harry reluctantly pulled back a minute later with a light gasp for breath and a regretful groan. "I need to head over to the Admin Office."

"Trouble at home?" The blond asked as he released his hold on Harry and leaned back onto the bed.

Nodding, the youngest Stark pulled a light green button up shirt onto his shoulder. He stood as he was doing up the buttons. "Dad decided it was a good idea to party in the Iron Man Suit last night. I guess he terrorized his guests and nearly brought down the whole house while fighting Uncle James who had apparently put on one of Dad's earlier prototypes to stop Dad from killing anyone. According the Happy, once Uncle James put Dad down he then proceeded to steal the prototype. No one's sure where Dad's at now."

Drew was chuckling as he watched Harry don a pair of sock and his black biker boots. "Only you, Stark. You'll be back for the Grad Ceremony?"

Harry smirked and smoothed his pant legs over the tops of the boots. He leaned over his lounging boyfriend and kissed him with enough heat to leave the older boy breathless. "I'll try, but I'll definitely be back for the banquette and party tonight."

With a plaintive moan, Drew grabbed onto the lapel of Harry's shirt and pulled him back down for another kiss. "You better; come Monday we all go our separate ways and with you going to New York I won't see you again."

Harry frowned and let his forehead rest on the other boy's. "I haven't-"

"You're going," Drew snorted with a sad little smile. "You'd be crazy stupid not to." He kissed Harry lightly. "I knew this ended with Graduation, Harry; you made that clear from the very beginning. It's been nothing more than physical between us and I'm okay with that."

"Doesn't mean I'm don't care about you, Drew." Harry sighed.

"I know." He kissed Harry again and gently pushed him away. "Go take care of your old man and hurry back. Sophie got to say her good-byes in Monaco; I want my last two days with you."

Once he grabbed his wand and holster, strapping it onto his arm beneath his sleeve, he gave Drew one last kiss before leaving his dorm. He was alone in the elevator down and only passed a few sixth graders on his way out of the dorm. The sunlight was warm, a cool breeze lightly blowing off the South Basin, and he eased into a casual jog across campus.

Something was off with his Dad. He'd known it back in Monaco, but this latest stunt was more than proof enough that Tony was self destructing on an epic scale. As much as he wanted to be here for Drew, Harry already knew that he wouldn't be leaving his Dad alone until he knew exactly what was going on with the Stark patriarch.

He was cutting across the lawn behind the Fitness Studio when someone called out to him. Stopped just off the path, he smiled when he saw Dan walking toward him. The Instructor was accompanied by two other men; European Wizards if he was to judge by the heavy robes they wore.

In the days since his return from Monaco, it wasn't uncommon to see strange Wizards and Witches in the company of one of C.A.S.S. teachers. The entire world had seen Harry performing Magic on television and, while most explained it as an experimental tech, the Magical Societies knew different. C.A.S.S. had been inundated with requests of tours and the opportunity to meet Harry and his teachers.

At first he had been opposed to the idea - he hadn't wanted to be thought more of a freak of nature than he already was - but a representative of the M.U.A. had asked him to reconsider. It was a chance to show the more insular Magical communities what it could mean to integrate with the Baseline societies. Harry had been reluctant, but agreed. For a couple of days now he'd been introduced to Educators and Government officials from across the globe.

"Hey Dan - Mr. Filch." Harry smiled at the man and waited for the trio to reach him.

"Harry." Dan greeted with an easy smile. "We were just coming to see you."

"Good thing you caught me," Harry admitted. "I was just heading over to Admin to get an emergency portkey home."

Dan frowned as did the other two wizards. "Is everything all right?" One asked with a distinct British accent. He was tall, a little taller than Harry's 5'10", with styled short black hair and deep grey eyes.

"My Dad got into a bit of trouble," Harry answered with a knowing smirk to Dan. The teacher chuckled and relaxed. "I just wanted to head back and check on him; no one's talked to him since last night."

"He's a grown man," the other Wizard said somewhat coldly. His accent was just as posh as his companion and his hair just as dark, though it was wild and unkempt. His hazel eyes were framed with square, dark brown glasses, and staring hard enough at Harry to make the teenager uncomfortable. "Surely he can take care of himself."

Harry lost his smirk and took a step back from the group. "Maybe, but I worry. I best get going if I want to get back before the ceremony."

"We came a long way to meet you, Mr. Stark." The same wizard pressed, interrupting Dan when the other man had opened his mouth to speak. Mr. Filch scowled at the Wizard's rudeness and the second Wizard winced. Harry's glare was glacial as the man continued to speak. "We were expecting to be able to speak with you. Your _father's_ drunken exploits can wait for a few hours. "

"You've got a lot of nerve," Harry snarled. "You think you're entitled to whatever you want just because you show up here unannounced? Let me guess: _Pureblood_?"

"James," the other Wizard reached out and took hold of his companion's arm when the bespectacled man took a step toward Harry. "This isn't the way to do this." He turned to Dan, who now stood between the pair and Harry, and the teenager. "I apologise, and you're right. We arrived without prior notice and during a busy time for your school. We only have a window of a few hours before we are due back in Scotland and we were very eager to meet you, Mr. Stark."

Harry's heart had sped up at the name of the one wizard but outwardly kept his calm. James was a very common name, and just because he was English didn't mean anything.

"That doesn't excuse you," Dan snapped. "We've gone out of our way to accommodate your sudden arrival but if Harry has something he needs to do then we won't keep him. I have agreed to show you around campus and if you are still amendable to that, then we can continue. Harry," he turned to the boy, "go on ahead to Admin. If you can't get back before the ceremony call me."

"Yes, Sir." Harry glared at both wizards, his heart still racing, and barely took a step before the one - James - was moving to intercept him.

"Sirius is right," James stood in front of Harry, hands splayed out at his side and his face contrite. "I don't react well to International Portkeys and I apologise for my words. We didn't even introduce ourselves properly. This is Sirius Black, Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

The grey-eyed wizard nodded in greeting, his hand extending to harry with a hopeful gleam in his eyes. Harry hesitated, glancing uncertainly at Dan, before accepting the hand and shaking it. "Professor Black."

"I was looking forward to meeting you, Mr. Stark." The man offered him a wan smile. "A shame we came at an inopportune time."

"Maybe we can arrange something on a later date," He heard himself offering.

The smile this time was warm and appreciative. "I'd like that."

"My name is James Potter, I'm an Auror with the English Ministry of Magic and a member of the Wizengamot." James' smile was tight and Harry found himself backing away from the offered hand.

He was trying not to panic as he took another step back from the men. "It was nice meeting you both, but I should get going."

"Harry?" Dan gripped the teenager's elbow gingerly, worry plain in his expression. "You okay?"

Attempting to smile, he shook his arm from his instructors hand. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just really need to go."

"She told you about me, didn't she."

Harry didn't respond. With a flex of his arm his sequoia and thunderbird feather wand dropped comfortingly into his hand.

Dan and Black noticed the movement and the Wizard held up his hands, showing he was unarmed, before stepping between Potter and Harry. "We're just here to talk, Mr. Stark. I promise: we're not a threat to you."

"Then you can turn around and leave the way you came." Harry told them viciously, the grip on his wand tightening.

Potter stared at Harry with a look that sent a chill down Harry's spine. "I can't do that, Son."

"I'm not your son."

Dan had moved to Harry's side, his phone in his palm while he thumb was texting a quick message. "I think it's best if you Gentlemen leave now. I don't know what's going on, but it's apparent you're both here with ulterior motives."

Black turned to his companion and placed a hand on his chest. "Let's go, James. Now's not the time."

The Auror nodded slowly but didn't take his eyes off Harry. "Sorry, Padfoot."

The Professor narrowed his eyes in confusion but was to slow to act. Potter gave the unsuspecting man a shove toward Harry and the teenager reacted on instinct. An overpowered stunner flew silently from the tip of his wand and struck the Wizard. Sirius black went flying back and hit the ground with a jarring thud.

James Potter had not been idle. As soon as he pushed his friend he had hit Dan with a stunner of his own. Except as the man went down the Auror has summoned the baseline to him. Unconscious, Dan was slumped in the man's arm with a wand tip digging into his throat. "Put the wand down, Harry."

Harry's wand was pointing at the foreign wizard's head but he didn't dare take the shot. In all their training, for every scenario practised, a hostage being used against Harry was not something Dan had ever prepared him for. "The wards will have alerted security already. You've got nowhere to go.

"Half the wards have been deactivated because of the ceremony today," Potter told him blandly. "Too many Alumni, parents, family, and what not. It's why we chose today to come collect you. Now put down the wand."

His heart thundered in his chest and he shifted the grip on his wand but didn't release his hold. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

"I will kill him, Harry." The man coolly dug the wand deeper into the unconscious Dan's neck. "There are a lot of things you don't understand, Son, and I will explain everything to you when I get you home.

"I am not your son!" Harry snarled. "And I understand plenty! I understand my mother willingly killed herself to get away from you and to keep me safe!"

"Would he?" Potter asked, tilting his head to the unresponsive man in his arm. "Is he willing to die to keep you away from your rightful family?"

Harry's knuckles were white around the shaft of his wand.

Potter sighed. "Put the wand down, now, or I will kill him."

Something in the man's tone convinced Harry that he was telling the truth. Reluctantly he lowered the wand.

"On the ground."

Gritting his teeth, Harry crouched and set the length of sequoia onto the grass. Before he could be instructed to, he took a couple of steps back from it.

Potter nodded. "Good. Now, come stand by me and take your professor's arm."

"Why?" Harry asked, narrowing his eyes in anger and confusing.

"Because the three of us are going to take a little trip together." Potter told him calmly. "Now, do as your told, Son."

Loathing the man in front of him, Harry left his wand behind as he closed the distance between them. He fixated Potter with a venomous glare and took hold of Dan's wrist. "I am not your son."

"You will be." Potter dared to smile at him and Harry wanted to do nothing more than punch him. "Fawkes."

Harry flinched when a flash of heat and flame appeared just above their heads. The phoenix latched onto Potter's shoulder and with a second pulse of fire the trio were spirited away. Almost instantly they were somewhere else but before Harry could appraise his surroundings he saw a man with a long white beard raise a wand at him.

The streak of a red stunner was the last thing he saw.


	9. Tastes Like Coconut, Part Three

**Chapter Nine: Tastes Like Coconut, Part Three**

**May 30, 2010**

**Malibu, California**

"Natasha will remain a floater at Stark with her cover intact. And you remember Agent Coulson, right?"

He slipped easily into the leather trench coat . He tried to keep his tone light, joking, something that Tony Stark would respond to without feeling like he was being pressured or coerced. "I am aware that your son is due back from school tomorrow but it will be suggested to Miss Potts that, given the state of the house, he stay with a friend for a few days. Oh, and Tony, remember, I got my eye on you."

Glass and pieces of concrete crunched underneath his boots as he exited the demolished Malibu home. As much as he hated to admit it, Nick Fury needed Stark. America needed Stark; both of them. And, according to the report from his people in San Francisco, Nick was in real danger of losing father _and_ son.

"What's the latest?" He asked the Widow as she fell in step beside him as they made their way out to the waiting helicopter on Stark's private pad.

"They're still trying to figure out how they got through the wards," the spy told him with a subtle frown. "There's no apparation trail nor a portkey signature. The working theory is Dumbledore's phoenix."

"We prove that, we've got the old man." Fury and the M.U.A. had been trying to neutralized the old man's powerbase since they learned the truth about Harry's mother. If they could link the wizard to the abduction of two American citizens it would be enough to get him out of the I.C.W. at least. "What about Ward?"

"His phone was found near Harry's wand and Black." Natasha informed him. "Ward was on Black as a known compatriot of Potter's, but no one expected the man to show up himself. Black they could excuse given the number of other Defence Masters that have been around C.A.S.S. to see a demonstration of Harry's abilities."

"One wizard Ward could handle, but two's always been problematic for our baseline Agents." Fury shook his head. "But with Ward's and Lenore's training, Harry should have taken Black and Potter out with or without his wand in seconds. They shouldn't have been able to get the kid off that campus."

"Unless they used Ward as leverage," the woman suggested and Nick agreed. "We'll know more once they can reverse the stunner to Black. It was one of Harry's."

Nick snorted as he came to a stop outside the waiting aircraft. "That's not going to happen any time soon. Gives me time to get there. Where have they taken Black?"

"They've got him in a holding cell in the magical block at the Bayville station."

"Stick to Potts," Fury told her as he lifted himself into the copter. "Have we confirmed with Olszewski?"

She nodded once. "He's worried, scared, but he'll say Harry's with him should they call him. He's informed us that Harry's phone was not in the dorm so chances are he had it on him when he and Ward were taken. We're trying to track it now. We've also routed all incoming calls to Harry's cell phone over to Drew's. It will delay his departure for the Triskelion, however; he was suppose to join the other recruits tomorrow."

"This takes precedent. We need to find Harry before Stark realizes his son is gone."

...

**May 30, 2010**

**Hogwarts, Scotland**

The shadows enveloped him as he watched the pair levitating the unconscious bodies down into the farthest corner of the castle dungeons. He was confused by uncertainty on Potter's face but was more interested in the absolute glee he saw on Dumbledore's as the wizened man led the dark haired boy into his would-be cell.

Harry Stark. Lily's son.

Severus trailed behind the pair with his arms tucked up into the sleeves of his robes. For nearly sixteen years he had been following the news of the Stark family; ever since Lily came to him that night, begging for something - anything - to help protect her unborn child from Dumbledore. It had gutted him, giving his best friend the tonic she would ingest that would sacrifice her life for that of her child. But he had never been able to deny her anything; why would then have be any different.

When he had first learned of Tony Stark and the kind of man he was, at least according to the Muggle Press, Severus had nearly gone after the child himself. Surely a man as reprehensible as Stark would be ill fitting to raise Lily's magical son. But over the years he learned to respect the man and the lengths he would take to protect the boy. While he presented himself as a playboy and amoral human being, it could not be denied that he was a good father.

The events of last year had rocked Severus' faith in the safety of Lily's son. The father missing and presumed dead in Afghanistan, Severus had wondered along with the rest of the world the fate of the young Stark Heir. When the man had returned, the dour professor had breathed a little easier. Until he read the account of what had taken place this past October. Assassination attempts, betrayal, abduction; Harry had been through hell and his father seemed fit to ignore the boy for playing the Hero. Once more, Severus found himself fighting against his desire to take the boy for himself to keep him safe and from all harm.

He should have listened to his instincts.

Because of Tony Stark's cavalier attitude, and Snape's unwillingness to do more than observe, Harry was now in the clutches of the one man Lily had feared most. The man she had given her life to protect her son from.

"Severus, do you have the potion?" Dumbledore asked as he brought the boy's unconscious body to rest on a bed inside the room. It wasn't an uncomfortable room, set up much like one of the dorm rooms, but a prison none the less. The bars did little to disguise the truth either.

"You know I do not, Albus," he grumbled sourly. "It takes eight days to brew and I only begun it after the incident in Monaco. You will have to wait another two days for the Suppression Potion to be viable. It is best you do so, as were you to administer the potion prior to the Blood Rite Potter insists on performing, you would have to wait thirty days for it to clear his system completely. To attempt the Rite while his magic is suppressed would most likely kill the boy."

"A shame," Dumbledore admitted. "We'll have to mind him closely until the last of the ritual's preparations are complete. Once he is bound to the Potter line we'll begin dosing him with the Suppression Potion until I have finished re-educating him."

"I will see to the brat, Headmaster." Severus bowed his head submissively. "My disappearance into the dungeon depths will not be as noticed as your own."

"Yes, of course," Dumbledore said absently as he began weaving the wards inside the room. "When will the Blood Rite be ready, James?"

Severus glanced over at the dark haired man as he joined them inside to room, Potter's eyes never faltering from the boy on the bed. "With Sirius gone..." The man's face twisted into a scowl and his eyes dilated and seemed unfocussed.

"You did what was necessary to bring your son home, My Boy," Albus crooned and Severus felt the shift of the magic, though Albus never appeared to turn away from his task. He watched as Potter's face relaxed and his light brown eyes cleared behind his glasses.

"It was regrettable," Potter admitted, "but necessary. With him gone, I will need you to perform the ritual, Albus. I can have everything ready for the same evening the students leave, unless you would agree to perform it at the Manor."

"No, Hogwarts is the best locale for the Rite. We'll do it here in the day after tomorrow, following the students departure. Most of the staff will leave immediately after the children and I can evict the rest with the claim that I am reworking the wards. This will give Severus the opportunity to complete the Suppression Potion." The headmaster's eyes sparkled and the old man's magic went back to created the wards that would trap the boy inside the room.

Severus' mind was whirling with the realization of the why behind Potter's sudden obsession with getting the Stark boy. Albus was compelling him, but to what end the potion master didn't know. He would have the next forty-eight hours to try to figure it out and, barring that, convince Potter of the truth and get Lily's son out of there.

He could not stop the cringe that crossed his features when he saw the final piece of magic Albus performed and anchored to the unconscious teenager. The headmaster noticed and a concerned frown turned down his lips.

"You do not approve, Severus?"

"You must do as you must, Headmaster." He schooled his features into their cool mask and met Dumbledore's questioning gaze. "I have been subject to the Fetter Geas and it conjured unpleasant memories for me."

It was a spell he had felt during his time immediately following the fall of the Dark Lord. It was used on all prisoners of Azkaban and literally tethered the Witch or Wizard to their prison cells. It caused them debilitating pain whenever they tried to leave without it being removed first. It had been a laugh for the guards to drag the prisoners from their cells and watch them crawl back within the boundaries of the spell. Typically it could only be removed by the original caster, though Voldemort had been able to break the enchantment when he freed his servants shortly after his rebirth.

The old man relaxed, comforted by the belief that Severus' occlumency was not sufficient to keep Dumbledore from his mind. The probe had been gentle, reading the emotion and truth behind the potion master's words. He would find nothing he did not expect to find from Severus and a deeper scan would have shown the memories of the man's brief time as a prisoner of the Dementors of Azkaban.

"Just a precaution, My Boy," Dumbledore soothed. "I doubt he will be able to overcome my wards, but the boy has already done the impossible once. Best not take the chance that we lose the Potter heir again."

Severus just bowed his head again in submission to the man.

Dumbledore tucked his wand back into the sleeve of his robe and ushered the two other men out of the room. The bars sealed behind them and they moved on to the Muggle's cell. It was immediately next to the boy's, but there could be no doubt about the room's function. Bare floor, a single chamber pot in the corner, and the long forgotten chains and shackles hanging from the wall. Severus took small comfort from the fact the man had not been restrained.

"We will keep the Muggle here for the time being," Albus informed them as he watched the unmoving man critically. Severus found it very telling that the old man didn't bother casting any wards around the Muggle's cell. "He will be needed to see the boy cooperates with the Ritual, but once it is completed he will be obliviated and returned to America. He is no threat, so you need not concern yourself with him, Severus. I'll see an elf assigned to his needs."

"Is this wise, Headmaster?" Snape dared to ask as the three men began making their way out of the depths of the dungeons. "With school still in session there is the chance one, if not both, of our... guests will be discovered."

"Your snakes are the only ones who come down here," Potter sneered at the potion master. "And with preparation to leave in two days they won't venture far from their friends."

"They are well hidden, Severus." Albus assured him. "And the students will be gone in a couple days."

"I'll come by daily to help you, Snape," Potter offered. "My son needs to know what it means to be a Potter."

"Unwise, Potter," Snape sneered at the Auror. "Your continued presence in the School will eventually be noticed."

"I think it's a splendid idea, James!" Albus smiled warmly, eyes sparkling and, now that he was aware of it, Severus could feel the subtle nudge of Dumbledore's magic. "I will make an announcement to the rest of the staff that you are replacing Sirius as the Defense Professor as he has taken ill. Classes and finals are over, and any grading he had remaining I can handle for you. Spend the time getting to know your son, James."

Once alone in his quarters, Severus began to pace. The Fetter Geas would keep him from just releasing Lily's son and the Muggle and claiming that the boy had escaped with his abilities. While powerful in his own right, the spy knew he was no match for the spell cast by Dumbledore. He would have to wait until the boy woke and they could speak. Severus would have to be wary of Potter as well. He didn't know to what depth Dumbledore's compulsions controlled the man, though they must be extensive if he had willing betrayed Black and left him to the mercies of the Americans.

And Stark.

For the first time in his life, Severus actually felt sorry for Sirius Black.

Tony Stark was going to tear the man apart.

...

**May 30, 2010**

**San Francisco, California**

He'd been awake for nearly an hour, at least by his guess, and he still felt like he'd been run over by a herd of stampeding Thestrals: beat all to hell and he hadn't seen it coming. Everything ached and there was a headache pounding steadily behind his eyes. The seamless, silver bracer on his left arm irritated his skin but he couldn't figure out its purpose without his wand; though he didn't feel any magic from it. The worst, however, was the feeling of something missing; the feeling he knew came with a the suppression of his magic.

When Sirius had come to he'd already been stripped of everything he'd been carrying, including his robes, shoes and socks. He'd been left with just his slacks and tunic, but as soon as he'd sat up on the slim cot in his cell he'd been given an plain, white jumpsuit and the instructions to strip of everything except that. Not quite remembering what happened, but realizing the grim position he was in, he complied.

As soon as he was dressed, a set of handcuffs, ankle and waist chains were locked into place and he was awkwardly escorted out of the cell by two burly men in dark blue uniforms with a black, geometric bird blazoned on their shoulders. Each one carried at least one visible muggle weapon and a wand visibly holstered on their forearms.

He was led into a spartan room with only a long table in the centre and a couple of chairs. One wall was covered with a large mirror, which he found very curious. However it was the man in the long black robe, over a similar uniform as his guards, and wearing an eye-patch that had Sirius very, very nervous.

"I am Colonel Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., and I'm here to inform you that, as of right now, you are being held under the US Patriot Act and will be detained indefinitely as a suspected terrorist against the United States of America." The man informed him casually as Sirius was manoeuvred into one of two chairs in the room. "You're in a lot of trouble, Mr. Black."

Sirius swallowed the lump of fear that had settled in his throat and nodded. "I'm beginning to realize that."

The bald man took possession of the second chair and the two guards stood at the ready on either side of the only door in the room. "I would like to know, Mr. Black, why you thought it was a good idea for you and your friend to kidnap two of my fellow Americans?"

The lump of fear was back and threatening to choke him. "I - what?!"

"Did you, or did you not, arrive via international portkey at the dedicated receiving point of the California Academy of Science and Sorcery at precisely eight fifty-six the morning of May thirtieth, two thousand ten?"

"Yes-"

"And did you, or did you not, in fact, arrive on said premises with the unauthorized presence of one James Charlus Potter?"

"Yes, but-"

"And did you, or did you not, in fact, arrive on said premises with the intention of removing Harry Anthony Stark, an under-age _American_ wizard, from said premises against his will?"

"What?! No!" This was bad. This was very, very bad!

"Then explain to me, Mr. Black, how it was that James Potter managed to remove himself and Mr. Stark _and_ one of _my_ agents from said premises without use of the ability known as apparation or a portkey!"

"He - What?!" Maybe he was dreaming and this was some horribly confusing nightmare. He'd almost believe it except for the fact that the pounding in his head was getting worse, meaning he was most definitely awake and not dreaming. "No, he wouldn't do that!"

The terrifying man leaned forward and placed his clasped hands on the surface of the table. "Mr. Black, I want you to tell me why you were on that Campus yesterday morning, or you will find yourself at my leisure in a prison that will make your Azkaban look like an all inclusive beach resort."

"We were just suppose to talk to him." Sirius insisted. "I swear, on my life and my magic, that I was only there to talk to Harry Stark."

The Colonel regarded him speculatively for a moment before leaning back into his chair. "And your friend?"

Sirius sighed and looked down at the table between them. "He's convinced that the Stark boy holds his family's magic."

"And that means what, exactly?"

"That, by right of Magic, Harry Stark will become the Head of the Potter family when James dies." Sirius explained. "Which in turn means that the money, the power, and the political influence will all go to him and not James' son."

"How would one _not_ his son have gained this Family Magic?"

Sirius winced. "How much do you know about the Wizarding World of England?"

"A lot more than I'd like to," Colonel Fury admitted. "Like how your peoples' centuries long obsession with keeping the family lines 'Pure' have led to a genetic - and apparently magical - disorder that prevents the men fathering their own children and most of the women from carrying any male child to term. Why, it's almost like magic itself is trying to end these so called 'Pureblood' Families! Even you, Mr. Black, would have been a product of the deviant practice of raping Baseline and First Generation men and women and then magically bonding the child of that rape via illegal and immoral blood rites and magical rituals."

He felt like he was going to be sick.

"If, by some twist of fate, one of you marries a First Generation Witch, she is whored out to another Wizard or you take her 'Muggle' Hunting. Not a pretty picture when spelled out so literally, is it Mr. Black."

"It isn't like that," he tried but could barely manage a whisper.

"Oh, it isn't?" Fury feigned surprise. "It isn't horrible and traumatic enough that a woman, compelled and drugged into a marriage she didn't want, would kill herself to escape her husband and protect the child she was carrying?"

Bile burned at the back of his throat as he stared across the table at the man. "Lily-"

"Was that her name?" Fury stared at him pointedly. "See, Harry didn't get the chance to know his mother; didn't even know her real name! All because of the man you call your friend. The man who has forcibly taken one of _my_ people out of the country. The man who has _kidnapped_ a fifteen year old kid to do God knows what to him!"

"James won't hurt him!"

"I don't know that, now do I?" Colonel Fury fixed him with an angry glare that could have put a basilisk to shame. "Here's what you're going to do, Mr. Black. To avoid spending the rest of your natural life in a very tiny cell, you're going to tell me everything I need to know about James Potter and who helped him take Harry Stark and my Agent out from under C.A.S.S. wards. You're going to tell me where he's taken them."

Sirius looked down at the hands cuffed together in his lap. He could feel the American's eyes boring into him.

He had been friends with James Potter for almost thirty years. They had been through thick and thin and everything in between together. They had been brothers in all but blood. Now, here was a man asking him to betray that brotherhood. And yet, hadn't James done just that to him? Hadn't his brother left him to take the fall for the very things Sirius had refused to help him with.

Before he realized it, he felt himself nodding and opening his mouth to speak. "Hogwarts. He'd take Harry - take them both - to Hogwarts. To Dumbledore."

...

**May 30, 2010**

**Hogwarts, Scotland**

It was supposed to have been an easy assignment.

After being wounded in South Ossetian, Grant had been recalled to the States to undergo several corrective surgeries and, after a brief time recovering, was assigned a long-term surveillance mission of a civilian of interest. He hadn't understood the interest one teenage kid could be to the government until the existence of magic was explained to him and who exactly Harry Stark was.

_"That kid is going to rule the world some day,"_ Fury had told him in all seriousness. _"Or he's going to destroy it. So we're going to keep him happy, healthy, and on our side."_

When the kid's father had gone missing in Afghanistan, and Stark Jr. had returned to school, S.H.I.E.L.D. had taken the opportunity to move Grant into a position of direct contact with his charge. He had one job: to see Harry capable of defending himself and protected at all costs.

And Grant had failed not once but twice.

Fury was going to have his head.

When he regained consciousness he had immediately cursed himself out for letting the damnable wizard get the drop on him. He knew Potter was trouble the moment he arrived with Black. It was the Hogwarts Professor that was the unknown and, in truth, Grant believed the man when he told Harry he was just there to talk. It was Potter that had the agenda and, given that Grant had woken up in an actual dungeon (not the first time either), whatever that agenda was had already been put into play.

A quick, but thorough examination of his cell proved futile. There was nothing inside the space beside a stained brass pot in the corner and a dozen shackles and chains of different length embedded into the stone wall. He had tugged and pulled but they weren't coming out. Looking through the bars that formed the 'door' to his prison, he could make out the shadows of a long corridor lined with at least a dozen more cells.

"Fuck me," A familiar voice groaned out of the darkness.

"Harry?" Grant kept himself pressed against the bars, once more cursing himself for letting the kid get kidnapped a second time.

There was a whisper of movement before the voice came again, closer "Dan? Where are you?"

He stuck his arm straight through the bars as far as he could reach. "I'm here. You?" A moment later he could just make out the fingertips of a hand stretched into the corridor from the cell beside him. It retracted almost instantly with a hiss of pain from the kid. "Harry, you okay?"

"Yeah," the teenager answered, though his voice was tense. "But, fuck, that hurt!"

Grant gritted his teeth. "Are you injured?"

"No," Harry assured him. "When I stuck my hand through the bars there was a sharp pain in my chest. It stopped as soon as I brought my arm back in."

"A spell of some kind?"

The kid was quiet for a minute before he swore again. "There's at least a dozen different wards and spell fields weaved throughout the room. I can't tell what kinds, I would need my wand for that, but one is tied directly to my core."

"Shit," Grant hissed. "That's not good, is it?"

"Is there anything good about this, Dan?" Harry snorted. "Except the idiocy of European Wizards, of course. They left me my Stark Phone."

Grant couldn't help but smirk with amusement at that either. "It's a 'muggle' contraption, therefore inconsequential."

"I can't get through to Dad," Harry said and the agent could hear the worry in the boy's voice. "I'm going to try Uncle James."

"Wait!" Grant cringed, grateful that Harry couldn't see the expression on his face. "There, uh, may be someone better to handle this." He moved to the wall separating their cells and reached through the bars again, stretching toward Harry's position. "Can you get the phone to me?"

"I think so." Harry's hand appeared a moment later and Grant could hear his hissing through his teeth. "Holy fuck, that hurts!"

The hand was shaking with the effort of pushing past the pain and Grant was quick to take the device from the teenager. "Harry, you all right?"

"Yeah," was the panted answer. "Who are you calling?"

He didn't answer as he dialled nearly two dozen digits into the phone. Some were the actual number while the rest was a code that would see the call from an unsecured and unknown phone connect. It took a moment for it to go through and when it did it didn't ring, answering only with a click and open air. "Agent Grant Ward, identification A-0849329; I need to talk with Director Fury."

_"We've been concerned, Agent Ward."_ The woman's face appeared on the phone's screen and she was scowling lightly at him.

"So you do care, Maria." He kept the smirk off his face. "Where's the Colonel?"

_"Half way across the North Atlantic by now," _the Deputy Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. responded offhandedly.

"He broke Black?" That should have surprised him, but Grant had to admit that no one was better equipped to deal with the English Wizards than Nick Fury.

_"Wasn't that hard."_ The woman admitted. _"Potter was working on his own; Black was just his scapegoat."_

"I got that impression too," Grant told her. "So Fury; who else and when?"

_"Triplett, Barton and a strike force ; thirty six hours. Given the phone's ID I'm going to assume that Harry Stark is with you?"_

"Next cell over."

_"Sit tight for now, but I want a . every two hours."_

"Yes ma'am."

The call disconnected from her end and he pocketed his student's phone.

"Agent?"

Grant grimaced at the tone of Harry's voice and sighed. He sat on the cold stone floor with his back against the bars. "I'm a S.H.I.E.L.D. Shadow; I was assigned to you after your father was kidnapped in Afghanistan. My real name's Grant Ward."

He heard the bars of the cell over rattle and could only imagine the teenager effecting a similar position. "Assigned to me how?"

"Protection and Training." he confessed. "Lenore - Madame Racine knew and we corroborated on the best way to get you able to protect yourself against most threats. After Stane had you abducted and our shortcomings exposed, we stepped it up."

"Never covered what to do if the bad guy has a hostage." Harry pointed out.

He snorted and thunked the back of his head against the bars. "Is that how he got you?"

"Distracted me with the other guy, then stunned you and had his wand at your throat." The teenager's voice was strained as he recounted what happened. "He-"

The two prisoners remained silent for a moment, Grant realizing that Harry had more to say. There was a heavy sigh before the boy spoke again. "I've know about Potter since I was eleven years old, but I've known my entire life that there were other Wizards out there that would want to take me away. I have been... _afraid_ of them my entire life, and once I had a name to go with it I created this monster out of the man. I'd imagined a hundred different ways I would deal with the son of a bitch if I ever met him, but when the time came I was too fucking scared and froze."

"You didn't freeze, Harry," Grant consoled him. "I didn't know what was going on but I could tell you were off. You tried to get out of there twice but you didn't just run because it would have let me with a known threat. You did what you had to to keep yourself and the hostage from being hurt or killed. While I'm embarrassed that the hostage was _me_, and God knows Fury's going to rip me a new one, I know you wouldn't have given yourself up if Potter wasn't going to hurt or kill me. And being locked in a dungeon is a lot better than being dead."

Harry was silent and Grant wished there wasn't a thick wall of stone between them. As strong and powerful as Harry was, as put together as he could seem, the kid was still just a kid and dealing with the fears and anxieties that came from being abducted only seven months ago. He was doing well, taking everything that had happened and using it and becoming better, but this could really set him back.

"I'm just so tired of being scared all the time."

Grant wanted to hurt someone for putting that tone in his young friend's voice. But trapped as he was, and separated from his charge, he could do nothing but try to talk him through it. "We're going to get out of here, Harry. Some of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s best agents are on their way to bust us out."

"Even if they do, I can't leave this room! I'm stuck here, Dan - Grant - whoever the hell you are! Whatever spell they've got wrapped around my goddamn core will keep be inside this fucking cell!"

"Then do something about it!" Grant yelled back, glaring at the wall between them; willing the kid out of the funk he was working himself into. "Here you are, probably the most powerful goddamn wizard on the planet! You ripped through the wards at C.A.S.S. like they were a wet Kleenex and apparated half-way around the world! You're telling me one goddamn spell is going to keep you here?!"

"Fuck you!"

He heard Harry scrambled from the floor and stalk deeper into his cell. A minute passed of complete silence before Grant tentatively called, "Harry?" When there wasn't an answer he tried again.

"Shut up, I need to clear my mind if I'm going to tap my core and get rid of this fucking spell wandlessly."

Grant smirked at the snarky response and shut up.

At the far end of the corridor an unseen shadows lurked. It remained only for a moment, insuring it had heard everything the prisoners had to say, before turning and melding into the dark.


	10. Tastes Like Coconut, Part Four

**Chapter Ten: Tastes Like Coconut, Part Four**

**May 30, 2010**

**Hogwarts, Scotland**

"Your supper, Muggle."

"Yeah, not eating anything you give me."

"Then starve; I care not. An elf will collect the tray in thirty minutes weather you eat or not."

Giving no indication that he had heard the voice outside their cells, Harry didn't move from his half-lotus position on the stone floor. He had spent the last hours studying his core, something Madam Racine had him practising as he tried to expand his wandless magic. It wasn't easy and the capacity of his core made it even more difficult to control the raw energies. Like every other Witch and Wizard, it was easier for him to harness and redirect the stored energy through a conduit: his wand. Except the length of sequoia was back on Campus.

His meditation had led him to the threads of the spell and he had felt ill when he saw how it clawed into the mental image of his core. Countless thin, black tendrils punctured into and through his magic, like someone would poke a skewer through a piece of meat, before coalescing into a large vine that circled the interior of the cell. He had tugged at the large tentacle of power experimentally, but the pain had stopped him almost instantly. If removed all at once, the tendrils would tear his core to shreds. He'd have to painstakingly remove the threads one by one, easing them from his core. It could be done but it would take time they may not have. He'd been at it for a couple hours now and only removed maybe a tenth of the threads.

He had heard the approaching footsteps and withdrew his focus from his core. Now, through the tiniest slit between his eyelids and from under heavy lashes, he watched as the dark clad wizard stood on the opposite side of the bars.

The man had shoulder length, shiny black hair and nearly as black eyes. He wore high collared, dark navy blue interior robes cloaked in a contrasting sleeveless, black outer robe. The only part of him that wasn't dark was the sallow tone of his skin. Even the elegant wand, that he was using to levitate a covered tray through a horizontal space in the bars, was a shimmering black wood.

Still not moving, Harry kept his breathing slow and even as the unknown Wizard paused to stare at him. There was something in the man's gaze that had Harry finally opening his eyes completely and staring back. Tall, Dark and Creepy inhaled sharply and floated the tray to a stop on the small table set up against the wall.

"What do you want?" Harry asked icily when the man still not to speak.

"I have been charged with you care while you are... a guest within the castle." the Wizard's voice was deep and silky and Harry could feel the power resonating behind it.

Grant snorted from the cell over. "Accommodations are a little lacking."

"Shut your mouth, Muggle," the Wizard turned his head with an impressive sneer to the other prisoner. "Unlike _Mr. Potter_ here, you are expendable."

"I am not a Potter!" Harry leaped to his feet and he reigned in the angry pulse of magic.

Dark eyes regarded him with a frown. "Magic says otherwise."

"Magic can go fuck itself." Harry allowed himself a vindictive smirk when both he and Grant spat the declaration back.

"Are all American's so vulgar?" Their captor arched an unimpressed eyebrow at the teenager. "Thank Merlin the Blood Rite will rid you of such uncouth behaviour."

Harry's heart stuttered inside his chest and he involuntarily took a step back from the bars. "What Blood Rite."

"Magic claims you the Potter Heir, and Blood with follow the will of magic."

"Like hell it will!" Grant thundered and Harry could hear the bars rattle as the Agent threw himself against them. "Stay the fuck away from him."

Harry backed away further and shook his head fiercely. "I'm too old; my body's too developed. I would need to be a willing participant of the Rite and I will not cooperate!"

"You will if you want the Muggle to live," the dark haired man responded coolly, flicking his equally dark eyes to the prison cell next to them. "Like I said: he is expendable. Should you cooperate, come midday the day after tomorrow, he will be obliviated and returned to America none the wiser of the past forty-eight hours. You_, Mr. Potter_, will remain within the school where you will receive the necessary education to take your place as the ideal pureblood son. I'm sure if you ask him nicely enough, Albus will even insure you are disgustingly Gryffindor enough for one of James Potter's spawn."

The nameless Wizard looked at Harry closely before he uttered, "I look forward to having you in my class this fall term, Mr. Stark. You look very much like your mother at that age. You have _Elizabeth's_ _jaded eyes_." And then, with a billowing of dark robes, he spun on his heels and was gone.

Harry stared into the dark beyond his cell, his mind spinning with fright and, strangely, hope.

"You won't cooperate with the Rite, Harry!" Grant insisted, worry clear in his voice. "It doesn't matter what they do or threaten to do to me; I don't want you cooperating."

"I don't think I'll have to," he muttered back, allowing a small smile to calm him and he chuckled. "Son of a bitch..."

"What is it, Harry?"

Harry answered, "He said 'Elizabeth's Jaded Eyes'. Elizabeth was the name my Dad knew my mother by and he always called her the one with the Jaded Eyes. In a letter she left for Dad, she told him that if we ever needed help in this world we should go to Severus Snape. I think - I think that was him!"

"Then why isn't he helping us out of here?" Grant demanded irritably.

"He did," Harry said. "He told us everything Potter is planning and who's helping him. We even know when."

Grant was silent for only when he grumbled. "Midday, day after tomorrow... son of a bitch! I'll let Hill know. You work on getting rid of the spell."

...

**May 31, 2010**

**Los Angeles, California**

"Got a minute?"

"No."

The tone was not one he'd been expecting, but maybe he should have. Tony offered the woman behind the desk a light smile as he took the chair across from her. "Come on, you just got off the phone. You're fine. Thirty seconds?"

She frowned and looked at her watch. "Twenty-nine, twenty-eight-"

"Okay, I, um," he said in a rush, realizing she was dead serious. "Here's the thing: I'm sorry. I haven't been entirely upfront with you about things and you're the one who's dealing with them and putting out the fires I caused."

"I'm doing the job you were meant to do." She snapped, though her eyes had softened a little around the edges.

"And you're doing it better than I ever could!" He insisted. "The second best decision of my life was to hand control of the company over to you."

He could tell she wanted to smile, but she kept her face stern as she arched her eyebrows and asked, "What was the first?"

A blinding smile lit up his face. "Keeping Harry." That won him the smile she was hiding and he cheered victoriously in his head. "I need you - I need him! Both of you make me better!"

"Then why have you been pushing everyone - pushing him away?" She demanded, her smile fading. "You've all but disappeared from his life, Tony, and if you keep doing that you're going to lose him."

"I know that," he admitted. "I, and this is somewhat revelatory for me, I realized this morning that I was turning into Howard. I was doing to Harry the very same thing I hated my father for doing to me. I have been treating him like a non-entity and keeping him at arm's length when I should have been holding him closer to me. I want to fix this; I want him to come home!"

"He can't, Tony," Pepper told him gently. "You _destroyed_ home and it's not a good place for him to be."

"Again, something I know," Tony agreed, "but here's the thing: I tried calling him to talk to him and I can't get through."

"He's staying with Drew Olszewski," Pepper reassured him. "I spoke to Drew last night while Harry was cleaning up after a pick-up Quodpot game. He's more than happy to have Harry stay for the next few days."

"He says that, but I called Harry's phone and it gets transferred to Drew's." Tony frowned. "Why would it do that?"

"Maybe Harry's broke again," Pepper explained.

"And why haven't you or I talked to him ourselves?" Tony demanded, not realizing he had gotten out of his chair until he started pacing. "I've may have been an absent father these last few months, but something's not right here Pep. I feel it in my gut!"

The door opened, interrupting the pair. "Ms. Potts?"

Happy and Natalie - a.k.a. Natasha the spy - entered the office at Pepper's beckoning.

Practically stalking across the office, her annoyed gaze locked on Tony, Natasha said "Wheels up in twenty-five minutes."

"Thank you," Pepper acknowledged and began gathering her things. She stood and met Tony's eyes with a sympathetic smile. "Let Harry enjoy the next few days, Tony. Drew's leaving for school already at the end of the week and it's going to be a long time before they see each other again. Give him a little time before you pounce on him with your newfound desire for reconciliation."

He nodded half-heartedly, watching the S.H.I.E.L.D. shadow as she moved about the room. "Right, right. You're right!"

Pepper smiled. "I usually am." She walked passed her former boss and let her hand brush against his arm. "Go home, Tony, start cleaning up the mansion. We'll talk more when I get back from New York, all right?" She moved to join Happy by the door. "Oh, and Tony, while you're here maybe you and Natalie can discuss the matter of your personal belongings."

"Absolutely," Natasha confirmed with the woman.

When the door closed behind Happy and Pepper, Tony turned on the spy. "Where's Harry?"

"Staying with a friend, like we arranged." She answered gathering up a few loose papers.

"Why can't I talk to him?"

"Maybe he doesn't want to talk to you." She fixed him with an unimpressed stare. "I can't imagine why that would be."

"He wouldn't do that," Tony insisted. "I know my son; he'd never ignore me because he's angry at me. He's already ripped me a new on in Monaco. Where is he?"

"With his boyfriend."

"See, I don't believe you." Tony glared at her. "And you know why? Because you're too good! You are mind-blowing duplicitous. How do you do it? You just tear things... You're a triple imposter. I've never seen anything like you. Is there anything real about you? Do you even speak Latin?"

She had been visibly getting angrier the more he spoke, and with a rapid string of words in a foreign language she stalked to the doors.

Tony blinked and followed her progress. "Which means? Wait. What? What did you just say?"

"It means you can either drive yourself home or I can have you collected." She snapped and left the room with the click of high heels.

Alone in his former office, Tony frowned. He believed her when she said he'd be collected just as much as he believed Coulson's threat to taser him. He would go back to the house, he would do what S.H.I.E.L.D. wanted him to do and find the answer to the palladium problem.

Then he'd find out exactly what they weren't telling him about his son.

...

**May 31, 2010**

**Unknown Location**

The summons came during lunch.

Severus had been anticipating that familiar burn in his arm ever since he allowed Draco to see him ascending from the depths of the dungeons; knowing the little spy would be unable to resist. The wards he had left behind in the corridor alerted him to the fact that Draco had remained at the far end of the prison for some time before departing. Snape had been pleased when the boy came back from the lower levels and headed straight for the Owlery.

He was aware that Draco had been tasked with watching Severus and to report any of his activities to Lucius who would in turn report to the Dark Lord. It was a check for Snape's loyalties and his continued value to Voldemort as a spy. Severus had counted on the fact that Draco would be curious as to why the Potions Master was down in the bowels of the castle and investigate.

With a telling look to Dumbledore, and subtle brush against the left arm, Severus rose from his place at the head table and quickly exited the Great Hall through the antechamber. Once passed the ward line of Hogwarts, the spy apparated, following the pull on his Dark Mark. Despite being one of the inner circle, no one knew the location of the Dark Lord. They could only apparate to his location when called and it was the reason Severus had allowed the Malfoy boy to find what was hidden in the lowest dungeons.

The room was large, elaborate, and empty of anyone else other than Lucius and the Dark Lord himself. Gliding across the marble floor, he swept to his knees a few meters from Voldemort's feet.

"Do you know why I have called you, Severus?" The Dark Lord did not sound happy and any other time it would have filled the spy with dread.

As it was, Severus had planned for this. "I believe I do, My Lord." He answered without looking from his bow of supplication. "I knew Draco was watching me and would report to his father. I knew you would want to know immediately what Dumbledore has done. The development has the old man watching me closer than usual and I could not inform you directly myself."

That seemed to surprise the men and after a moment of contemplative silence, Voldemort spoke again. "Rise and report, Severus."

Smoothly rising from his prostrated position, Snape looked up and met the Dark Lord's strong visage. Unlike the glamour he wore to terrify both his followers and his enemies, the face of Lord Voldemort was anything but the hideous snake-like façade. Chiselled chin, defined aristocratic features, silky dark brown hair and creamy brown eyes, the Dark Lord struck a charismatic profile. Only the inner circle of Death Eaters were ever privileged to see his true face.

"Dumbledore has the Stark boy." He informed his Lord and Master. "Potter accompanied Black on his journey to the American School and has succeeded in kidnapping the boy and one of his instructors, leaving Black to take the fall with the Americans."

Voldemort actually frowned. "The child did not go willingly?"

"No, My Lord. He and the other, a muggle, have been imprisoned in the dungeons of Hogwarts. Dumbledore has even anchored the Fetter Geas to the boy's core." Severus didn't bother hiding the disgust from his voice or his face.

"He Tethered an underage wizard?!" Malfoy sputtered. "It could damage the still developing core! Dumbledore's gone mad!"

"There is more to Dumbledore's interest in the Stark Boy, My Lord, than as the Heir of the Potter Family Magic." Severus admitted. "The Headmaster has been pushing and compelling Potter to find the boy since the night you eliminated Longbottom two years ago."

"The defunct prophecy," Voldemort murmured as he delved into thought.

Snape waited a moment, first to give his Lord the time he wanted and secondly to prepare himself for what he was about to do. Voldemort must have felt his growing anxiety as the Dark Lord schooled his features and raised an eyebrow at his servant, silently demanding an answer.

"I have kept secrets from you, My Lord." Severus swallowed thickly at the glare that was now levelled at him. "I knew of the boy. I knew his mother and aided her when she escape Potter while still pregnant. I gave her the tonic - one known only to the Prince family line - that would sacrifice her life and magic for that of her child. She died giving birth to the boy a full month before he was due. Before she passed, she told me of the father and made arrangements for Muggle Authorities to see the child given to him."

"When was he born?" The sibilant words sent a shiver of fear down the potion master's spine.

Severus chose his words carefully. "As the _sixth_ month dies."

The Dark Lord snarled, instantly making to correlation. "He was the other child; the other potential child of prophecy!"

"It is my belief," Snape hurried to explain, "given Longbottom's mediocrity, that the Stark child was destined to be the one chosen by fate."

Seeing the Dark Lord's pensive look, Severus breathed a little easier. For all his madness, Voldemort was intelligent and would undoubtedly reach the same conclusion the spy had. If not, Severus had just condemned Lily's son to a lifetime of being hundred by Lord Voldemort.

"The prophecy orb was black." Vodlemort rose from his throne and, in a very uncharacteristic show of humanity, began to pace. "My informants inside the ranks of the Unspeakables told me that only occurs when the prophecy has been refuted."

"Lily's sacrifice defied prophecy." Severus continued carefully. "She knew of the prophecy and knew the child spoke of was her own. It was his already growing power that freed her from Potter's compulsions and potions. The elixir I brewed for her would bequeath a witch's magical core to a child that would be born without one. Bestowing that core to a child already developing its own and displaying magic even before its birth-"

"The boy's power would be unlike any other known in the history of magic." Voldemort actually looked stunned and gaped. It was only for a second before his stoic regality was back in place. "You said Potter."

"During the blood rite performed on his son, James Sirius Potter Jr., it was discovered that the Potter Family Magic did not recognize the babe as his Heir." Severus told them. "Dumbledore kept it secret from Potter until Longbottom's demise."

"And has now been compelling the man to find his wayward heir." Malfoy scowled. "But to what end?"

"They prepare to perform the Blood Rite tomorrow where Potter will bind the Stark boy to him. Once it's done, his magic is to be suppressed and Dumbledore will 're-educate' the boy."

"Erasing his mind and rebuilding a weapon he can throw at me and any other threat to his 'Greater Good'." The Dark Lord snarled.

"As I believe, my Lord."

Voldemort retook his throne and stared down at his servant. Snape felt the none-too-subtle probe and, for the first time in his service, allowed the man complete access to his mind. He was committed to a side now, one he needed to be on to save Lily's son from the fate she had given her life to prevent.

"You loved her; you love her still."

"I will love her until the day I die." Severus bowed his head and confessed. "Potter's spells and potions took her from me. Because my father was a Muggle, the Prince Blood Rite was never performed on me as a babe. My magic is not corrupted and any child I father would have been free of the plague of our people. Harry Stark, had Potter not interfered with Lily Evans, could have been my son."

Voldemort's voice and expression betrayed nothing. "What would you have of me, Severus?"

"Neither Dumbledore or Potter thought the Muggle of any consequence and did not search him or the boy before leaving them in their cells. They had a cell-phone, a muggle communication device, that allowed them to make contact with agents of the Muggle government. Apparently, the 'teacher' is a bodyguard assigned to the Stark boy for his protection and training."

"Draco has informed us as such," Lucius commented. "As well as that the Americans are preparing to march on Hogwarts."

Severus nodded. "With their muggle technology and the Wizards in their ranks, they will raze the school to retrieve their people. However, I have doubt that they will reach the boy before the Rite has begun."

"You wish me to release the Tether from the boy." Voldemort nodded. "You have not betrayed me, Severus, but neither have you been true to the cause. Even now, my slippery snake, you only give yourself to me completely for your own purposes."

"My life is yours, My Lord," the potion master proclaimed truthfully. "I only beg you spare the boy."

"I would do so, if only to stop a weapon of such magnitude from falling into Dumbledore's hands. But it would not be an easy task. To breech the ancient wards of Hogwarts and fight my way through Dumbledore's Order-"

"I can get you into Hogwarts." Severus interrupted boldly. "You, and as many Death Eaters as you would wish."

"Through the wards?" Malfoy asked incredulously.

The Dark Lord watched the professor for his answer. Snape shook his head and said, "Around the wards. I know of several secret passages that will gain you entrance. With the children still present until tomorrow morning, you would have the upper hand as Dumbledore and his people would strive to protect them. And, with Black gone from the castle Dumbledore would be needed to direct the school defences. He would be unable to stop you-"

"While I free the boy and let him stand against his abductors." Voldemort actually smiled. "Answer me honestly, Severus: Should I do this, would the Stark boy stand with me?"

"He would not stand against you."

"Acceptable." Voldemort rose again and reached for Severus' arm. Holding it aloft, the potion master withstood the pain as the Dark Lord pressed the tip of his wand into Snape's Dark Mark and summoned his followers to him. "We have much to plan, my dear Slippery Snake."

...

**May 31, 2010**

**Hogwarts, Scotland**

"What do you want?"

Grant's vicious growl had Harry coming out of his meditation quickly. He moved from his spot on the floor, his body protesting the sudden movement after being so still for so many hours. The tendrils were more than halfway gone, though the second half was proving much more difficult; as if the spell recognized what he was doing and was trying to fight him.

" _Silencio._"

Harry was ready with a glare for the bespectacled wizard when he came to stand just beyond the bars. "Take it off him," the teenager snarled, letting his power flare and batter against Potter.

The man flinched and raised his wand. "I don't want to have to immobilize you, Son, but I will if you don't behave."

"I am not your son," he spat every word as if it was the foulest thing he'd tasted. "Take the spell off him, now!"

Potter conjured himself a chair with a muttered spell before sitting, leaning his forearms casually against his knees. "I will before I leave. I just want to talk with you uninterrupted, Harold; the muggle hasn't been harmed."

Harry forced a sickeningly sweet, and obviously fake, smile onto his face. "If I wanted to hear from an asshole I would have farted. You kidnapped us, asswipe; what makes you think I want to talk to you?"

The man sighed and visibly calmed himself. "A position I was forced into by the man who stole you from me. My family's magic runs through your core and it is my right as your father to ensure you know the ways of your people?"

"Oh god!" Harry rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. "Does your ass ever get jealous of the amount of shit that comes out of your mouth? Do you honestly expect me to believe you're doing this for any other reason than that fucktard Dumbledore wants you to? Unless there's someone else who has a phoenix that can conveniently get you through most wards undetected?"

This got the wizard angry and he leaped from the chair. "Albus Dumbledore is a great Wizard and a hero of the Magical World! He defeated the Dark Lord Grindelwald and is the only one the He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named fears!"

"Congratulations!" Harry jeered sarcastically. "You've just graduated from bottom-feeder to cocksucker! Tell me, how long have you had your head so far up Dumbledore's ass?"

Potter stalked toward the bars, his wand gripped tightly in his palm. "I have proudly and willingly followed Dumbledore against the Dark since before you were born, you ignorant little boy! He is the greatest wizard since Merlin and he is the Leader of the Light! Fawkes is his companion and a symbol of his dedication to doing what is necessary for the Good of our world!"

"Good god, where do you people get your 'facts'?" Harry shook his head. "The phoenix is an animal. It does not have the intelligence to follow more than its base instincts and what it has been trained to do. No animal on this planet is inherently good or evil; and that include the goddamn phoenix!"

"That you believe that just proves that Dumbledore is right. You will need to be re-educated." Potter said with no small amount of disappointment. "No son of mine will believe such lies!"

"Then I thank God and all power in the heavens that I am not your son!"

Potter actually looked hurt at his tone. "You are being unreasonable. I wanted to talk to you; to explain to you how I lost you sixteen years ago. I wanted you to get to know your father-"

"I know my father!" Harry snarled, taking great satisfaction when the Wizard flinched back from the venom in Harry's voice. "You're not him and you never fucking will be, you impotent, ball-less, steaming sack of Siberian horse shit! So shut the fuck up!"

The push of power into the words was unintentional, but Harry was glad all the same when Potter opened his mouth to speak again and no sound came out. Allowing himself a victorious leer, Harry watched the man's eyes go wide as he tried to dispel the 'accidental' magic. When it couldn't be done, he glared at Harry before turning and disappearing back into the dungeon's shadows.

Harry had taken great pleasure seeing the uncertainty and fear within the glare. It was only when Grant started clapping that he realized Potter hadn't removed the spell from the man. He was surprised when another set of hands joined in.

"Very impressive!" A cultured voice cooed from the direction Potter had gone. "I do not think I have ever seen such an extraordinary display of Intent Magic; especially from someone my age."

Stepping into the light just outside the bars was a teenager not much older than Harry. His hair was a sunny-blond and he had a long, elegantly defined face with pale ice-blue eyes. He wore the black slacks and sweater of a school uniform, his tie and robes accented with a forest green colour. The Badge blazoned on the breast of his robes was a silver embroidered snake on the same forest green shield.

He carried a light brown wand and waved it in an arc from one end of the corridor to the other. Harry felt the magic of a privacy spell fall around them. The boy approached the bars and actually stuck his arm between them, offering his hand to his fellow teenager. "My name is Malfoy; Draco Malfoy."

Harry narrowed his eyes warily at the hand but step forward and accepted it. "Harry Stark."

"The Wizard who apparates around the world," Draco purred and drew back his hand. "I've heard and read all about you and must say: I never expected to find you in Hogwarts, let alone a prisoner in its dungeons. Your pictures do not do you justice."

"While I appreciate the compliment," Harry drawled, eyeing the other boy cautiously, "something tells me you didn't come down here to flirt with me. By your lack of surprise, you knew we were down here."

Draco lost his amusement and nodded in all seriousness. "I found you here yesterday and heard you and your... teacher talking. I've written to my father; he has the ear of the Minister as well as a connection to someone with a great deal of Power and Influence in our world. I thought I would offer you what aid I can while I waited to hear back from him."

"Aid? How?" Harry motioned to the cell around him. "Even if you get the door open, a spell has been bound between this room and my core. I can't leave if I was capable of it."

The blond frowned and anger filled his eyes. "A Tether? What son of a bitch Tethered your core?! Not Potter, he doesn't have the power - or the balls!"

Wearily, Harry rubbed at his temple and motioned to the cell next to him. "Can you release my friend from the silencing spell? He should be part of this discussion, if you are in fact here to help us."

With an amused smirk, Draco aimed his wand to the side and incanted, "_Finite Incantatem_."

"Your father's powerful connection," Grant started in on the teenager as soon as he could speak, "would that be your Dark Lord Voldemort?"

Harry's eyes went wide, as did the blonde's. Draco gave a little glare and his voice held an air of danger to it when he spoke. "If you don't want my help-"

"We never said that," Harry said quickly. "But look at it from our position; behind these bars it's not that easy to trust just anyone. The 'good-guys' are the one who've put us here in the first place."

"All right then," Draco nodded and flipped his wand so he was holding it by the tip. He held it through the bars to Harry's cell. "I, Draco Lucius Malfoy, do swear on my Magic that any and all offers of aid to Harold Anthony Stark for the space of twenty-four hours are truthful and without ulterior motive. By the power of three by three, so mote it be."

Stunned, to say the least, Harry took the offered wand handle. "I, Harold Anthony Stark, do accept the oath as spoken to me by Draco Lucius Malfoy. By the power of three by three, so mote it be." Draco released his hold on the wand just as the tip flared and the magical Oath took.

"Shit kid," Grant breathed with apparent respect. "You didn't have to take an Oath."

"I did if you were going to trust me. "Draco bowed his head respectfully to Harry. "It's nice to see the old ways are known to the uncivilized masses in the Colonies."

Harry snorted and the corner of his lips turned into a half-smile. "English snob."

Draco returned the smile and gestured to the wand in Harry's hand. "I know you've been trying wandlessly to remove the Tether, but will using this help you?"

"Whoever cast it knew what they were doing; the tendrils of powering trapping my core inside this room are resisting my efforts. It would take at least another twenty-four hours to so it on my own."

"With our people on the way we don't have the luxury of that time frame," Grant told the other boy. "We can't risk anyone using Harry as leverage against our reinforcement because we can't get him out of that damn cell."

"Try the wand," Draco told him earnestly. "It won't be a perfect fit, but it may be better than nothing."

Gingerly letting a sliver of his magic flow into the wand, Harry frowned at the resistance he felt. "Unicorn hair?" He asked as he pulled back his magic carefully.

"And Hawthorn wood; ten inches precisely."

Turning the wand back around, the handle now once more facing its rightful owner, Harry shook his head. "My magic is incompatible with land bound creature cores. I'd most likely burn it out before I got off a single spell."

The other boy was scowling as he took it back and tucked it back into the sleeve of his robe. "I'm afraid there's not much else I can do at the moment. I can see what reference there is in the Library on the Fetter Geas -maybe even talk to Granger to help - but it'll take a few hours at least."

Harry's smile was self-deprecating. "Not like I'm about to go anywhere."

"Keep trying to rid yourself of the spell," Grant told him. "The more of it you can get gone the better you may have of snapping it all together."

"Can you take him with you?" Harry said suddenly, motioning to Grant's cell. "They plan on using him to make me cooperate with the Blood Rite they want to perform tomorrow. If he's not here-"

Grant interrupted him before he could say any more. "You won't cooperate whether I'm here or not, Harry. And I refuse to leave you here on your own. Besides, if I'm not here they'll know we had help."

"If you do somehow get rid of it before morning, make your way to the Slytherin dorms." Draco gestured down the corridor. "This way, first offshoot on the left, there's an alcove, about thirty meters down, hidden behind a tapestry of a beheading. One the back wall, press the third stone from the right corner on the very bottom; it'll open up a passageway that will lead to a spiral staircase that will take you to a large statute of a basilisk. You can look through the eyes and if the hall is clear push it open, then go to the left about ten meters. There will be a bricked up doorway between two large bookcases. Say the password 'draíochta fola roimh' and it'll lead you into a passageway to the dorms."

Harry repeated the directions back to the blond and when he was satisfied, Draco nodded. "I should go before Potter returns with Dumbledore to have you remove the Intent Magic. I'll head for the Library now, before supper, and come back if I find anything. Otherwise, I'll stay in the Common room tonight on the off chance you make an escape."

When the privacy ward was taken down and the other boy vanished back into the darkness, Harry moved back to his spot on the floor and took up the half-lotus positioned he'd been in for most of the day.

"I'm going to call this in to Hill," Grant informed him.

"Make it quick," Harry responded. "We don't want them knowing about the phone or that someone else removed the Silencing spell."

"Will you remove the Intent Magic?"

A wicked grin played across Harry's features before he schooled them and prepared to delve back into his meditation. "How can I? It's not like I've begun practicing Intent Magic with Madame Racine or that I've had some success with it. After all, the burst of accidental magic from a stressed out and frightened teenager is beyond my control."

Grant could only laugh.

...

"What are you doing?"

The parchment was spread out over the foot of his bed and thirteen year old Jimmy Potter was staring at it intently. "I thought I saw my Dad inside the castle again. Wanted to check before going down for supper."

Chewing on a licorice wand, his best friend, Dennis Creevy, climbed onto the mattress beside him. "He's spent as much time here this year as you did."

"I asked him at Christmas break why," Jimmy told the other boy absently. "He just says the Headmaster is helping him with something for the Family."

"Be he won't tell you what?"

The youngest Potter shook his head. "Mom doesn't even know and it's making her mad. If Dad's not at the Ministry, or at work, he's here with Professor Dumbledore."

Dennis pointed at a little flag moving out of the Dungeons. "There he is. What do you think he was doing down there?"

"Can't be visiting Professor Dumbledore," Jimmy mumbled, watching the flag bearing his father's name. "The Headmaster is in his office."

"Professor Snape, Maybe?" Dennis moved his finger to the label moving to intercept James Potter's flag.

With a derisive snort, Jimmy rolled his eyes. "If you think Snape hates me, he's a hundred times worse with my father. They _loathe_ each other. I'd say he was here to see Uncle Siri, but I haven't seen Padfoot's name on the map at all tonight. And even so, Uncle Siri wouldn't be caught dead anywhere near Snape's domain."

"Well, Professor Snape's is the only other name in that part of the map." Dennis said around the last mouthful of licorice and laid back on the bed.

"No, I saw three other flags further down there. Look," Jimmy pressed his wand to the map and it shifted its focus. "Only two now - must have seen wrong. Grant Ward and Harold... huh. The last name is weird."

The other boy was fiddling with the pillow. "How so?"

"It's like there's two names, one written over top of the other." Jimmy narrowed his eyes and leaned down closer to the man. "Kind of hard to read but... looks like... Potter? That makes no sense; Dad and I are the last Potters."

"What's the second name?"

"Uh... Stark, I think."

Dennis bolted up beside Jimmy and stared with wide eyes at the stationary label. "No bloody way!"

Jimmy looked at his friend, surprised by the reaction. "What?"

"Harold Stark!" Dennis crowed with an excited smile. When Jimmy just shook his head in confusion, Dennis rolled his eyes. "Harry Stark? Son of Billionaire, and the coolest guy ever, Tony Stark? You know, Iron Man!"

"Who?"

"Sweet Merlin!" Dennis threw his hands up in the air. "You Purebloods have got to pay more attention to the Muggle World!" The incited muggle-born boy opened his mouth, and Jimmy prepared himself for one of his friends tangents, when Dennis suddenly frowned. "But what's Harry Stark doing here? And why is your family name showing up behind his?"

Jimmy looked back at the map and wore a frown of his own when he looked closer at the location. "I think there's a better question to ask. Why are Harry Stark and Grant Ward in the one area of the Dungeons that still functions as a dungeon?"

Dennis's frown deepened into an unhappy scowl. "What do you mean?"

"I explored the castle with Uncle Siri last year when he took on the D.A.D.A. position. He showed me everything on the map and a few things not." He jabbed a finger into the parchment at Grant Ward's name. "Look at how he's pacing; back and ford, never leaving that room. Harold Potter - Stark - Whoever! - hasn't moved at all. And that part of the Dungeons still looks like a prison. Bars and chains and everything. I had nightmares for a week after Siri showed me it."

"Circe's tits!" Dennis hissed, surprising Jimmy with the vulgarity from the other boy's mouth. "Harry Stark is like... like... like if Merlin was still alive and had a kid, he'd be that kid! He's like royalty! And his Dad is an honest to God Superhero! And you're saying-"

"I don't know what I'm saying!" Jimmy said quickly, shifting the map away from the two suspect names. He watched as his father's flag suddenly moved away from Snape's at a rapid pace, heading for the stairs to the Headmaster's office. The Professor's flag hovered for a moment longer before sliding down the corridor toward his office.

Reluctantly, Jimmy let the map scroll back to the dungeons and stared at the label with the double name. He couldn't understand why, if the person down in the depths of Hogwarts was who Dennis said he was, the Potter name was overlapping? He needed to know, but he already knew that confronting his father wasn't going to get him any answers.

Hopping off the bed, Jimmy tore into his trunk until he found the shimmering fabric of his cloak. "Cover for me, will you Dennis?"

...

It had only been about an hour after Draco left that Potter came storming back into the dungeon. He wasn't alone, not that Harry had expected anything different. It was the same aged wizard he had seen just after the phoenix had delivered them to their prison. The same wizard that had stunned him and was the likely candidate for the casting of the tether spell.

Harry hated Albus Dumbledore already. Hearing the man's voice, oozing with faux grandfatherly compassion and omniscience, just made him despise him even more. "Good evening, Mr. Potter." The old man wheezed, taking on the persona of a man hapless and incapable in old age. "We seem to have ourselves a situation."

Refusing to respond, Harry shifted where he lay on the stone floor and cupped his hands behind his head. Resting on the palms he stared up at the ceiling and continued to ignore the pair when Dumbledore cleared his throat again.

"It is common courtesy to speak when spoken to, Mr. Potter."

The name was grating but just solidified his resolve not to react to it. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction, and it seemed to piss the old man off which was a bonus in Harry's book.

"Mr. Stark!" the name snapped angrily.

Harry held back the smile and turned his head to look at the pair of wizards. He kept his face voice of all expression and still didn't speak to either man. He just raised an eyebrow, looking for all the world like a bored and annoyed teenager.

Dumbledore's eyes immediately began to sparkle and Harry narrowed his own into a vicious glare when he felt the brush of Legilimency against his Occlumency shields. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't let that slide. "It's common courtesy to keep your mind away from someone else's, dipshit."

The twinkle diminished and the old man frowned. "Such offensive language is unnecessary, Mr. Potter."

Rolling his eyes, Harry turned back to staring at the ceiling, once more ignoring the wizard.

The silence lasted for barely a minute before Dumbledore lost his cool. "Enough of these games. "

Harry was suddenly levitating off the floor and his eyes went wide as he was spun around to a pseudo-standing position and floated toward the cell's bars. He leveled a sneer at the old man and a second later he staggered to keep his footing when the levitation spell was suddenly dropped. "What next, you going to _Imperio_ me too?"

Dumbledore actually bristled at the snide comment, though Harry noticed the wand was not put away. "We will have this conversation, Mr. Potter, whether you want to or not."

"I get that you're old and insane but my name is Stark," Harry scoffed. "And no matter how much you say to the contrary I have never been, nor will I ever be, a goddamn Potter!"

Behind the old man, Potter was fuming and stepped toward the cell threateningly, only to be halted by Dumbledore's raised hand. "I would like to know what spell you used on your father, Mr. Potter."

"Holy fuck," Harry snorted and shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. "Somewhere out there is a tree, tirelessly producing oxygen so that you can breathe. I think you owe it an apology."

The bearded man wrinkled his forehead in confusion for a moment before he scowled. "Release the spell you cast on James Potter."

"I couldn't even if I wanted to." The teenager lied flawlessly. "He was pissing me off and I told him to shut up. Next thing I know, he's blessedly silent and leaving me the fuck alone. If only you would do the same."

With a heavy sigh, Dumbledore took on an aggrieved expression. "You disappoint me, My Boy. I had hope that we could cooperate and your stay with your true family could begin pleasantly." He flicked his wand toward the cell and all the furniture vanished, leaving behind the room's harsh appearance. Bare walls and floor, lined with chains and manacles, a prison designed to intimidate and foster fear.

"Careful, Dickwad, your true colours are showing." Harry gave the man a wicked smirk. "What next? Take away my meals? Go ahead; it's not like I've been eating the potion-laced shit your lapdog has been peddling."

"I assure you the food has not been tampered with." Dumbledore smiled indulgently.

"Like I'm going to believe that." Harry rolled his eyes and huffed. "I can't undo the magic. If that's all you wanted, beside trying to scare me with the big bad power of Albus Fucking Dumbledore, you can go fuck a goat, old man."

Scowling behind the beard, it disappeared a second later as Dumbledore regained himself and shook his head. "Such aggression is not necessary, My Boy. We are only wanting what is best for you-"

"Yeah, I call bullshit." Harry met the man's blue eyes and sneered. "Swear on your life and magic that this has nothing to do with any prophecy potentially pertaining to me taking out that pesky Dark Lord of yours." Dumbledore's eyes completely lost their twinkle and he gaped at the captive teenager. Even Potter looked surprised and glanced over at the old man questioningly. Harry smiled victoriously. "Didn't think I knew about that, did you?"

Dumbledore gathered himself quickly. "You are too young to understand what must be done for the Greater Good of our world."

"Is that what you said to your lover after you sucked his cock and then stunned him before imprisoning him in his own prison?" Harry jabbed, not having to feign the amusement he got when the man blanched. "That is what happened to Grindelwald, right? I know that European History writes it that you offed the guy, but you couldn't do it, could you? Does Nurmengard allow for conjugal visits? Or is he not the only Dark Lord you've been taking it up the ass for?"

Dumbledore lost all cool and stalked toward the cell, bringing his wand to bear on Harry with a cruel snarl on his face that was quite frightening. Or at least it would have been if Harry hadn't been pushing him to it.

Readied for the pain it would cause, Harry reached through the bars and grabbed on to the man's wrist. Yanking him forward, Dumbledore stumbled off balance and slammed face first into the metal bars. Keeping his hold on the old man's arm, Harry twisted and leveraged the arm against the bar until he heard the snap of bones.

The aged man cried out with the sharp pain as his arm broke and the wand fell from his grasp. Harry was snatching it out of the air before it could touch the ground. As soon as his fingers curled around the pocked handle of pale wood, he felt the rush of magic not unlike the first time he held his Sequoia wand. He disregarded it for the moment and fired off two quick stunners. Dumbledore and Potter hit the ground in a heap and Harry was swinging the wand toward the sudden gasp he heard. A third, silent stunner left the wand and another unseen body hit the floor.

"Harry?!" Grant called anxiously from his cell.

"Saw the chance and I took it," the teenager answered the unasked question. With the pain burning in his chest again, he reached through the bars and aimed the stolen wand toward Grant's cell. "_Alohomora."_

The prison door clicked and swung open. A rumbled looking Agent Ward rushed out of the cell and over to Harry's. His eyes ran over Harry, taking in every inch of him as he obviously searched for visible injuries. Satisfied with what he saw he smirked. "A little warning next time would be appreciated. Can you end the spell keeping you in there?"

"There will be no fucking next time," he muttered and turned the top toward his chest. "Dumbledore's wand is almost as compatible as mine. Only one way to find out if it'll work. _Finite Incantatem._" Pushing as much power as he could behind the spell he directed it toward the last of the tendrils binding his core to the room.

He groaned and his knees his the stone floor. He heard Grant yelling his name but the magic roared through his body until it felt like it was about to tear him apart. Then, with an excruciating 'Snap' the cord of power broke and the pain vanished. Harry fell to his hands, gasping to regain his breath. "I'm okay," he panted before pushing himself off the floor. "I think it worked."Grant stood back as Harry waved the wand and the door opened. He hesitated only a second or two before stepping over the threshold.

The agent was smiling and clapped the teenager on the shoulder. "You search them, I'll call in to Hill."

Harry nodded and stunned both wizards a second time before he headed for the area he had fired the third stunner at. Grant eyed him curiously when he started carefully sliding his foot across the floor. "There's someone invisible here." He explained. "I heard them and stunned them now I just-" He paused when his foot hid an unseen mass and he crouched down. "-have to find them."

Running his hands over his discovery, it came back with a shimmering of fabric unlike any he had seen before. He frowned when the cloth revealed a kid a couple years younger than him laying awkwardly and unconscious on the floor. "Shit. It's a student."

Grant was beside him instantly and was checking the kid over. "He's breathing okay, heart rate is steady; I don't think you shocked his system with your stunner."

Relieved, Harry was staring down at the boy and reached out to adjust the skewed glasses on the kid's face. He looked between the younger boy and the wizards unconscious in the hall. "I think this is Potter's kid."

Grant looked at them both and nodded. "I think you're right. Nothing to be done about it now. Let's get them into the cells and then we can meet up with the Malfoy kid and see about getting the fuck out of here."


End file.
